Elder Scrolls: Skyrim: Fires of the Dragon Souls
by MasterCaedus
Summary: All peoples of Tamriel hold many stories of the Dragonborn, Doom-Driven mortals of Dragon Soul and Blood; those touched by the gods. A confluence of terrible evils bring two such mortals into conflict: a Man whose dark past could be the key to a bright future, and a Thalmor whose lust for power dwarfs her loyalty to her masters. (In Dragonborn Arc)
1. Unbound:Execution

The bard coughed once in the loud tavern, and the loud conversations died down. He was beginning the tale that all present had been waiting to hear. The man took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "My fellows, prepare yourselves for the tales of the greatest hero, the ruler of our Empire. This is the tale of the mortal who devoured the soul of Alduin, the World Eater. This is the story of the Doom-Driven warrior that brought death to Harkon, the Vampire Lord. A soul that triumphed against Miraak in the mad oceans of the wretched Apocrypha. The thu'um of this warrior destroyed armies and brought them victory in war. This is the Song of the Two that were touched by the gods' wisdom and power. This is the story of two who took that blessing, and crafted warring Empires.

"This is the story of the Dragonborn."

"Captain, these two aren't on the list," the young, broad shouldered Nord soldier said. His hold on the list of prisoners slated for execution at Helgen began to falter as a... feeling ran through the air. Hadvar glanced, half-worried, at the unusually tall human male, yet Breton or Imperial judging by the man's skin, in front of him and also an average height... she-elf of some sort, Hadvar couldn't quite place her. Both of them had this... fire burning in their eyes that linked their disparate physical forms.

"It doesn't matter," the Imperial Captain snapped in response. She glared at Hadvar angrily, and Hadvar's brow furrowed for a moment. "Well!?"

Hadvar sighed and turned his attention first to the human. Hadvar, a Nord, had to look up to look the man in the eyes. "By the Eight, ye could be an Atmoran!" Hadvar grunted. The human stared at Hadvar for a moment, and the edges of the man's lips tugged upward into a slight smile. "Sorry. Anyways, who are you?"

The human sighed. "Lucius Ashcroft. Mother was an Imperial, Father a Breton. His mother was a Giant, that's where the height comes from," the man joked, smiling even in the face of death. His hazel eyes sparkled good naturedly for a moment before his matted dirty-blonde hair fell across them to obscure his soul once again.

While Hadvar wrote this information down, he could vaguely hear General Tullius reprimanding or gloating to Ulfric Stormcloak, Traitor to the Empire. Tullius was asking about how Ulfric could misuse the voice to kill the king. Hadvar had little doubt, however, that the Empire would use the Voice at any given opportunity if it meant victory in even a single battle.

Hadvar turned his head slightly to the woman. "And you?" he asked, hoping that this one would be as easy to catalog as the man.

"What do you think?" the woman spat.

The Captain beside Hadvar sneered and backhanded the woman into the ground. "You will answer when you are told to, Prisoner!" she shouted. She added in a kick to the elf's midsection before letting Hadvar take over again.

"Gah, ha!" the elf gurgled, torn between pain and laughter. "You're just going to kill me anyways, why should I tell you who I am?" The woman's eyes glanced towards the Thalmor representative present at the executions.

Hadvar looked over at Elenwen, the Thalmor, as well. She had the look of a cold hearted bitch that hated humans based on "Elven Supremacy." Hadvar bet that the elven prisoner was hoping that the Thalmor would try to save this elf from a human execution. The woman didn't even receive a return glance from Elenwen.

The human prisoner leaned down to help the elf up, but was quickly shoved away by the Captain. "No contact between prisoners," she snapped. Hadvar sighed internally. It _was_ a rule, but he doubted Lucius had a knife or two tucked up his ragged, burlap sleeves.

Lucius stood straight and followed the Captain's directions to stand in the line for the execution. "Let's try this again," Hadvar said, looking down at the elf woman. "_Who_ are you?"

"Nord," she spat. "What do you think?"

"We won't ask nicely again," Hadvar warned.

"Cause you've asked nicely so far, Imperial scum?" the woman retorted. Hadvar just glared into her fiery eyes for a few moments, and she relented. "Whatever. Altmer-Dunmer mix. Thera Direnni."

"Thank you," Hadvar sighed while he wrote the woman's name and race down. She staggered to her feet and felt her crimson hair mixing with the blood of a wound caused by the captain. Her blood red eyes flashed with anger, but she followed Lucius with only a few mutterings about the _Imperial Bastards_.

Hadvar watched Lucius and Thera sadly. Just like the thief Lokir, they didn't look like people that were members of the Stormcloaks. They just happened to be at the border with Cyrodiil during the ambush on Ulfric and his men. Wrong place, wrong time and those two were going to follow Lokir to the grave. At least they weren't trying to run.

Hadvar was soon struck from his deep thought by the echo of a roar in the distance. "What was that?" he asked, worried.

"It's nothing. Carry on," Tullius commanded, leaving no room for the fear that ran in Nord blood. Dragons haunted every Nord's dreams as a child, and it was a fear few could ever rid themselves of, despite its irrationality.

The priestess began shouting her prayers to the sky. Hadvar walked with his Captain to observe the executions and stood at attention, just as he was expected to do.

"By Talos, shut up. Can we just get this over with?" the first Stormcloak prisoner snapped at the priestess as she talked of the "Eight Divines." Hadvar had little doubt that – were the Thalmor not present – the priestess, the General, and the Stormcloaks would be praying to the "Nine Divines." Few humans truly believed in their hearts any of the wording in the white-gold concordat. The "Eight" was a formality that extended to any elven company, and that was all. Unfortunately, the belief in the Ninth Divine was heresy because of the Thalmor. The indestructible Empire finally lost a war, and it cost the people of that Empire their religion.

The headsmen's ax rushed downward and the blade snapped the Stormcloak's head cleanly from his shoulders. The head fell unceremoniously into the basket made ready to catch the discarded skulls, and the headsmen shoved the body away haphazardly with his foot. Hadvar saw the Stormcloak's foot twitching after death, and he mumbled to himself, "May Talos commend you to Sovngarde." He glanced around beneath his helmet as he said this, and was relieved that no one present seemed to have heard him.

"Next up, the Breton!" the Captain shouted. A distant roar echoed through the air while Lucius walked to the chopping block.

The roar echoed through the air again. "There it is again. Did you hear that?" Hadvar asked.

The Captain glared at Hadvar before adding in a sneer. "I said, _next prisoner_," she spat. "The Breton!"

"Technically, Breton-Imperial," Lucius said. "If you could just.. no?"

"Get down," the headsmen commanded. The tall harbinger of doom kicked the back of Lucius' knee and the man went down. He shrugged and placed his neck gingerly on the chopping block.

"Jeez, don't lose your head," Lucius joked while he laid still. Lucius sighed and closed his eyes to accept his fate.

Then it happened. The roar came again, much louder, and Tullius was the first to respond. "What in Oblivion is_ that_!?" he screamed while drawing his sword. Hadvar followed the General's example and turned to see what was coming. He immediately felt his blood freeze, and for a moment he was just a boy hearing his uncle telling the nightmare story of Alduin the World Eater.

A dragon, Harbinger of the End Times, had landed on the prison tower just next to the prisoners. The monster was huge, perhaps just as large as the tower it was so precariously perched upon. The creature was covered in huge, black spikes that gave it a frightening, deadly visage. Added to that was a look of pure contempt in its terrifyingly intelligent eyes. Everyone present, Elf, Nord, Prisoner, Free, stared up at the creature.

Then, faster than they could hear or see, the dragon _shouted_. The sky lit up red and the clouds swirled into a vortex of bloody fire. It was bewitching, and not a man present could find themselves not staring at the sky. When the first flaming rock fell from the beautiful red vortex and crushed an Imperial Soldier, that was when Oblivion broke loose. Prisoners ran off and used anything sharp they could find to cut their bonds. Thera sprinted off next to Ralof, a Stormcloak prisoner that Hadvar had grown up with – best friends as boys, actually.

Hadvar glanced over at the execution area and saw that the other uncatalogued prisoner was alive. Dazed, but alive. Hadvar rushed over and dragged the dead body of the headsman off of Lucius. "Get up, we have to run!" Hadvar shouted. He dragged the prisoner to his feet. "We have to get out of here, come on! Stay by me and we'll stay alive."

Lucius nodded, half-dazed still. However, he could still summon the strength to chase after the the Nord Loyalist. The two ran around a building on which the large, black dragon was perched and tearing through the building stones like blocks.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Ralof was _fast_. I was barely able to keep up with that human trash. "This way, come on!" he shouted when the dragon attacked. He was probably the first to react. "We aren't going to have another chance like this!"

Of course, the Nord was right. I took off running with him, casting a glance over at Elenwen again. Her eyes followed me for just a moment, approving of the decision I had made for my mission, and then she ran off with General Tullius. "Jarl Ulfric, what was that? Could it have really been a dragon?" Ralof asked as soon as he sprinted into the building.

Ulfric, the more commanding Nord, responded slowly, but intelligently. "I'm not sure what to believe, Ralof. We don't know enough, yet."

The younger man nodded as Ulfric cut the binds that were on his wrist. Ralof then took the knife from the Jarl and walked over to me. "Let's see if we can't get those bindings off," he said with a grin. He snapped the ropes that were digging into my wrists.

"Why are you helping an elf?" I asked, with _just_ the right amount of suspicion doused with gratitude. It would make me look like I was of a lesser position than that of these Nords. But by right of my elven birth, it was obvious that I _am_ the superior being.

"Anyone who hates the Empire is friend enough for me," Ulfric answered. "Especially if the Thalmor don't try to save her."

"Hm... Well, many thanks," I replied. I rubbed my wrists, just again getting used to the feeling of being unbound. "But we are still left with the problem of the -" the black monster outside screeched and the building began to heat up from the dragon's fire breath "- dragon. What do we do next?"

"Ralof, get her out of Helgen. We'll be right behind you," Ulfric commanded.

"But I can't leave without you, Sir! What would Galmar say?" Ralof begged.

"No! I have to make sure the rest of our soldiers get out of here okay. This one needs your help more than I do," Ulfric snapped. Ralof froze for a moment before nodding and giving in to his superior's orders. "Good. Now go."

Ralof grabbed my arm. "Come on. We have to get out of here," he said. He ran up the stairs and we came upon a hole that the dragon had punched in the wall. There was a five foot gap between the tower and the next building, and maybe a ten foot drop. It wouldn't kill me, but... it would hurt. "Ladies first."

I snarled on the inside. "Why thank you," I said as sarcastically – yet good naturedly – as possible. I looked down from the hole in the wall and hissed. It would not be fun. I took two shallow breaths, and then leaped through the smoky air and into the burning wooden building. My legs stung from the landing and the impact translated, at least partially, up my spine.

As Ralof landed next to me, I turned and growled. "What's the term? Frying pan, fire?" I shot.

Ralof rolled his eyes and ran forward towards a window. The crazy human was going to _jump out of another building_! To my amusement, however, the ground gave way beneath him as he approached the corner of the room. The wood collapsed and he fell to the ground floor in a clatter of wood and ash.

I walked up slowly and slid down as carefully as possible. I considered leaving the Nord to die. It would have been easy – fun, almost – to let such a lesser creature die. However, Elenwen's original orders had been to assist Ulfric and his men in escaping their execution, and those orders likely remained even in the face of the dragon attack. With a heavy internal sigh, I ran to Ralof's side and began dragging debris from atop his body. "Hurry, we have to run!" I said, injecting just a fraction of "damsel in distress" into my voice so I could appear that I needed him. It was always important to make men feel more important than they actually are – basic Thalmor Hidden-Justicar training. Spy training.

When I finally got enough of the junk off of the Nord, I was able to help him to his feet. "Can you walk?" I asked, well-crafted fake concern ringing through my voice.

"I'll be fine," Ralof said, his words barely intelligible through his thick, Nordic slur.

"Good. Let's get going." I slogged with Ralof supported by my shoulder. I dragged the human past insane Stormcloaks and Imperials – even some of my own stupid compatriots – struggling to shoot the beast down with nothing more than iron arrows and plain wooden bows.

"We should help!" Ralof said. Ugh, humans.

"No, Ulfric said we need to get out of here," I replied quickly. I shifted more of Ralof's weight onto my shoulder and dragged him down a hill. As we struggled downward, that Imperial soldier with the list and the human prisoner with whom I had been stuck ran into one side of the keep. I made a mental note to avoid those two – being with a Stormcloak, and all – and dragged Ralof into the other side of the keep and to freedom.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Hadvar pulled me around the keep and forced me into a crouch. "By the Ni – Eight. A dragon..." I gasped. "I can't believe it."

"I'm not sure_ I_ could believe it if I wasn't watching one burn a town to the ground right now!" Hadvar replied. He glanced around the edge of the stone tower and nodded to himself. "Okay, the way should be clear now. We need to evacuate as many people as possible, so keep an eye out."

I nodded. "I wasn't expecting doing it any other way," I responded cheerily. I jogged after Hadvar around the building and summoned a spark of magickal flame to my fingertips to burn my rope bonds off. A few seconds of concentrated fire later, and the ropes snapped cleanly off.

"Here, just give me a few minutes and I can get those bindings off you," Hadvar said as he drew a dagger from his belt.

"Oh, ha... funny story," I chuckled. He turned around while we tried to sneak around the building.

"You could have escaped at any time?" he asked incredulously. "Well, why didn't you?"

"Well, it took some concentration. And it only wasn't obvious because of all the fire around us," I explained. I walked just behind Hadvar, who had tucked the knife back into his belt. I began keeping an eye out for anyone else that may have survived the attack thus far. "If I'd tried it on the way here, the guards would've beaten me into submission."

"I suppose we would have," Hadvar replied absently. The dragon roared once more and we looked around the corner.

"Run, Haming!" a Nord man was screaming. He was struggling to drag his son to safety with him.

"Father, stop! Help!" the boy cried out. The child suddenly tripped and lost his footing, he fell headfirst into the ground. The boy's hand slipped from his father's and he skidded across the ground.

"Haming, no!" the man screamed. The dragon's roar echoed through the sky once again and the creature slammed into the ground just behind Haming and his father. The man glanced down at his son and grabbed him by his left arm and right shoulder. "Run, son. Live."

The man threw his son forward just as the dragon shrieked in its alien tongue and fire flew forth from its jaw. The child rolled across the ground, just outside the reach of the flames. His father, however, was not so lucky. The flames ran across the man's body and he screamed in pain. His skin charred and blackened before us until there was little left.

"Joore ag!" the dragon screamed gleefully. With a few powerful beats of its mighty wings, the dragon was flying gleefully through the air, its roars echoing with bloodthirsty elation. "Fen krii Dovahkiin!"

I ran forward seconds after the dragon was gone; I was already cursing my inability to save the man. It had been as if my legs had frozen at the sight of the dragon, and I had been completely unwilling to help him, regardless of what I knew I _should_ have done. I glanced up into the sky towards the dragon as it flew away to kill someone else. "Did you hear what it said?" I asked Hadvar while he collected the crying child. _Dovahkiin_... the word sounded oddly familiar, and I was not sure why.

"No. It was just roaring, right?" Hadvar asked. "Okay. Haming. You're going to come with us until we find some of your family, okay?"

The young boy cried. I walked over and picked him up. He was about eight – usually he wouldn't _want_ to be carried, and very few _would_ carry him. But given my strength and the circumstances, I thought he wouldn't mind. "Come on, Haming," I said quietly. I motioned for Hadvar to go first, and I followed the man through the burning township of Helgen.

A short while later, Hadvar and I came across a small group hiding out with a contingent of troops from both sides as defense. Everyone was casting leery eyes at each other, but it seemed to be going fine for the moment. "Froki, is that you?" Hadvar asked. I swung my head towards him, and saw an old man huddling in the corner. At a glimpse, the old man looked just like Haming's father. "Froki... Torolf is..."

The old man looked up at Hadvar in horror. I noticed his face was much more... experienced than his son's had been. "Is... Is Haming okay?" the old man asked, his voice scratching like gravel on a steel blade.

"Yes, we have him," I said. I walked over with the sleeping boy and laid him on the ground next to his grandfather. "He's... physically fine."

The old man glared at me in my prisoner's rags, then his eyes softened. "Many thanks. He is family, and so are you both, now."

"I am honored," I replied. I looked up at Hadvar. "Do we stay here or..."

"We must leave Froki. The soldiers here are going to keep you safe," Hadvar assured. He gestured for me to follow him and we ran off into the darkening shadows created by fires at night. "Stay safe, Old Man."

"I need to meet up with General Tullius as quickly as possible," Hadvar explained to me as we ran. "With the escape of Ulfric, the General's going to need all the men he can get in order to quell this rebellion and fight off the dragon – or dragons, gods forbid there is more than one. I bet if you helped, there would be a pardon in it for you."

I laughed dryly as we ran through the battlefield of mortal versus dragon. "You don't have to bribe me, Hadvar. The Stormcloaks left me behind and the dragon tried to kill me. They don't sound like the kind of people – or dragons – I would want to associate with."

Hadvar smiled at me for a moment. "Well then, I suppose the General will be happy. If you can fight with that fancy magic or a sword, I bet that you'll be a very welcome addition to the Legion."

We two rushed through the fires and the screams. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the she-elf and a blonde Stormcloak limping down the hill. I ignored them, for the moment, and Hadvar and I ran into one side of the Helgen Keep.


	2. Unbound:Into the Keep

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I rummaged through the chests in the barracks of Helgen Keep. "Are you almost ready, Lucius?" Hadvar asked.

"Luc – just Luc to my friends," I replied. I furrowed my brow and sheathed the iron sword on my hip. I stood tall and turned to Hadvar. I chose to wear a leftover mage robe someone had left behind years earlier. However, I still like the weight of heavy armor – I was wearing heavy steel gauntlets and boots. The weight is just... familiar. Calming. I smiled and brought a shower of embers to my fingers. "Ready."

"Good, _friend_," Hadvar replied with a smile. He walked to the door of the room and pushed it open. The Nord heaved a heavy sigh and looked like he was trying to think hard. Not something many Nords were good at – they're more "punch punch stab stab" kinds of people. "Gods, a dragon. I -"

I grabbed the Nord's shoulder and shoved him into the wall. "Do you hear that?" I asked. I unsheathed the blade at my hip and summoned the fire back to my hand. I crept slowly towards the next door, trying to sneak up and listen. Unfortunately, my heavy, metal boots clanged against the stone floor and voices came loudly from the next room.

"Who's there?" a thick, Nord voice asked. Male. "Come out here, milk-drinker!"

"Aye! Don't hide like an Imperial Coward!" a woman's voice came with the same thick, almost exaggerated accent.

"Stormcloaks! Maybe they can be reasoned with," Hadvar said. He pushed past me and walked towards the iron gate. "Look, we need to work together with that Dragon out th-"

"Kill him before he tries to trap us!" one of the Stormcloaks shouted. I growled to myself and ran forward to help Hadvar, who was struggling to hold his own against the two rebels.

I unleashed a blast of continuous fire at Stormcloaks, who stumbled backwards. The flame licked their armor and singed the cloth, producing a leathery burning smell. While the two Nords screamed – more in fear than pain – I ran forward with my sword swinging.

I focused my attacks more on the man, letting Hadvar deal with the woman. My sword's edge collided with the wooden handle of the man's warhammer. He shoved his weapon against mine and and I flew backwards. My back collided with the stone wall and the man rushed at me. He swung the steel slab of death at my head, and I barely ducked under the stonecrushing blow in time to save my own life. Rubble rained down on my shoulders from the shattered stone of the keep wall.

I rushed forward before the Stormcloak could recover, my shoulder colliding with his midsection. The Nord doubled over and stumbled backwards with me. I stopped moving my legs and the Stormcloak fell to his ass. My grip on my sword redoubled and I plunged the iron through his throat. "May the Nine receive you," I said. "Talos guide you." The man's eyes glanced into mine with a combination of thanks and confusion. I tore my sword from the man's throat and turned my attention to Hadvar's struggle with the woman.

The Imperial Soldier's sword clanged in a collision with his enemy's blade, small sparks of red fire erupting from the collision. "Die, Imperial dog!" the woman shouted. She twirled with the momentum of her blade's ricochet and slashed at Hadvar's head. He brought his blade up in time and lashed out with his foot, and the woman crashed down onto the ground. She raised the flat of her blade upward defensively, and Hadvar brought his blade downward and his sword crashed into hers.

"I didn't want it to end like this!" Hadvar shouted. He brought the full weight of his body down onto his sword and the woman's grip on her sword slipped. Hadvar's steel blade cut through her face with a sickening crunch as her skull shattered. Blood and brain flowed from the wound, and her soul left for Aetherius. Hadvar's voice came in a whisper. "I didn't want it to end like this."

I stood to the side and slipped the iron sword back into its place on my belt. "I'm sorry," I told Hadvar as I stopped the flow of Magicka to my left hand. I walked over to the Nord and offered my hand.

He looked up at me, eyes half-hollow. He grabbed my hand and I helped pull him up. He stared at the blood on his hand and sword with a dead sadness before picking up the woman's gloved hand and using it to wipe the blood off. "I wasn't going to kill them. I didn't even want to fight them," he said with a frown. He coughed once. "Let's move on."

I nodded sympathetically and gestured for Hadvar to take the lead. The soldier lumbered past me and sheathed his blade with the sound of metal singing against its sheathe. I followed him to the metal door at the other end of the large room, giving a cursory but sad glance at the two Stormcloaks on the ground. I returned my attention to the area before me and followed Hadvar through the now-unlocked door that led to the basement of the keep. I shut the door behind me, and the lock latched shut of its own volition.

We wandered slowly down the stairs, trying to ignore the screams and roars that were echoing into the building from outside. A particularly loud roar came followed by a crash. Rock collided with rock further down the path, and Hadvar rushed forward. I growled to myself and ran after him while drawing my saber. Anything that drew our attention was likely to draw the unwanted attention of Stormcloaks. "Don't reason with them this time," I shouted. Hadvar just grunted in response.

"Damn!" Hadvar shouted. When I rounded the corner, I couldn't help but verbally agree with him. The dragon had caved in the hallway in front of us. "It would take weeks to move all this debris!"

I looked around. "There," I said. I walked over to a door beside us and kicked it open.

"What was that?" a Stormcloak asked.

"Check it out," another Stormcloak commanded.

I rounded the edge of the door with my sword at the ready. The blue-armored Nords stopped in surprise for a moment, then rushed at me. I deflected an incoming blow from a greatsword and brought my iron sword through the neck of my first attacker. The Nord gurgled as blood flew from his wound and mouth. I turned my attention to his friend and unleashed a torrent of fiery Magicka. The man screamed in pain and dropped his weapon. The ax clattered against the ground while he struck his own body in a useless struggle to put the flames out. The Nord screamed for a few more moments as the Magicka ripped the last shreds of life from his body. With a somber glare at the bodies, I put my foot on the chest of my first opponent and wrenched my sword from his neck. As Hadvar surveyed the quick carnage, he said simply, "I'm glad you're on my side."

I smiled grimly at Hadvar. "Aye."

He saw I was obviously uncomfortable for reasons I was not ready to share. "I'll... Hey, look around the room for some supplies. I'll look for a way out of here."

I nodded at the soldier and approached a grouping of barrels. Hopefully they would have some supplies, and not something completely useless like a horker tusk for no reason.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I dragged the Nord fool into the keep just as fire from the dragon burned its way across the doorway and killed everyone outside. Nords and a few of my more foolish Thalmor brethren screamed in pain as the fire consumed their flesh, blackening their skin and causing their souls to flee from their dying minds. I slammed the door shut behind us and mildly burned my hand on the metal handle. "Daedra spit!" I cursed quietly. I shook my hand and helped Ralof begin to stand by himself.

"Damn Imperials," Ralof spat. He stumbled towards the wall and held himself up for a moment. He breathed in deeply before shoving the wall and standing straight. He slammed his fist into the wall. "So many dead because of them, and now this?"

That piqued my curiosity. "Y-you think that the Imperials control this dragon? But it burned their people," I said.

"Aye. But it's just the kind of discord they would like to sow. The milk-drinkers think that if dragons appear in Skyrim we'll be forced to their banner. Just watch: any day now those Thalmor and their Imperial pets will claim they are the only ones who can stop the dragons." Ralof slammed his fist into the wall again, and continued, "But that doesn't matter right now. We have to get out of here."

Suddenly, we heard the sound of weapons clashing against each other. Ralof and I traded glances before rushing towards the sound of the fight. Dust fell from the ceiling and the sound of rock shattering beneath metal shot through the hallway. I froze and dragged Ralof into a crouch. "We need to be careful!" I hissed. Ralof glared at me for a moment as the sounds of battle ended. We turned the corner to see two dead Stormcloaks with no blood on their weapons.

"Gods..." Ralof said as we surveyed the carnage. He walked over tot he dead man. "Gunjar... I'm sorry."

Ralof placed his hand on the man's forehead. "Talos guide you," he muttered. Ralof was quiet for a moment, then stood up and turned to me. "Take Gunjar's gear. He's not going to need it."

I nodded and walked over to the dead Stormcloak. I took the blood covered armor off of his body and hastily pulled it over my head. I belted the leathery armor and pulled the pants on. I took the man's gloves and boots as well – the woman's were covered in blood and what looked conspicuously like brain matter. I did grab the woman's one-handed sword. "Let's get out of -" Ralof walked over to a door leading downstairs and pulled on it. The sound of rattling came from the door's lock. "Damn!"

"Let's get in there, Soldier," a woman's voice came. I looked towards the source of the voice and saw the Imperial Captain who had been presiding over our execution. I pulled Ralof to the side of the room where the voice had come from. I pointed for him to stand on one side of the door, and I stood at the other, weapon drawn.

"Yes, Ma'am," another voice said. The door opened slowly, away from us. The soldier walked through first and saw Ralof out of the corner of his eye. "Ambu -"

My blade flew through the man's neck and his sentence was finished with the sound of blood gurgling out of his wound. With a wicked smile, I turned and kicked at the Captain, who shoved my foot away and elbowed me in the face. I fell to the ground and felt blood drip into my eyes.

Ralof was attacking the woman as I got up, and holding his own quite nicely. I snarled and grabbed the sword of the Imperial on the ground so I stood with a blade in either hand. Ralof deflected a blow incoming from the woman's blade – a perfect match for the steel blade in my left hand that had an unneeded Imperial Dragon insignia carved into the blade. I crouched and walked behind the woman, who was gaining the upper hand against Ralof.

Her blade arced through the air at Ralof's head. He barely blocked the incoming blow of death, but his iron sword flew from his hand and crashed into the wall. The Imperial woman raised her blade to kill Ralof, and he muttered to himself, "To Sovngarde I go."

With a grin I slashed both of my blades upward, the metal sailing through the woman's arms just below the elbow. The Imperial screamed as her sword arm flew with its momentum away from her body. Her left arm fell limply downward from her body and she fell to her knees. I grabbed the woman's neck with my left hand and pulled her close. I crouched behind the crying woman as the fear finally took over her actions and she struggled futilely against my grasp. With a grin I slit the useless human's throat and let her dying body fall to gush blood onto the stone floor. Her armor clinked against the floor, and the glint of a key on her belt caught my eye. I tore it from her corpse and tossed it to Ralof. "Maybe this will open the door," I said.

Ralof nodded and grinned, "You're a good fighter, Elf," he said.

"That I am – and call me Thera, Ralof," I said. I kicked the Imperial Captain's body for good measure, and added something else in – just to solidify my standing with the Stormcloak standing in the room. "You will die when you are told to, Bitch. That's what you get betraying Talos."

The Nord on the other side of the room raised an eyebrow at me as he unlocked the door and shoved it open. "Come on," he ordered. I nodded and tore the woman's sheathe from her belt. I quickly looped it onto my belt and slid both of my swords into their carriers. I ran after Ralof and down the stairs, further into the Keep and further away from the Dragon.


	3. Unbound:Escape From the Caverns

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The potions in my pack jostled as I walked. In the barrel had been – praise the Nine – useful items. Potions that would restore one's health, the flow of their Magicka, and their physical endurance. I had taken two of each potion, leaving one of each for anyone who may come after us. Hadvar picked up his pace and I followed suit. A few steps later, and I knew why the Nord was running: the sounds of battle rushed towards us through the otherwise quiet air of the keep. I drew my blade and brought the fire to my hand once more.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we saw two Imperial soldiers – a mage and a man with a mace – fighting off two Stormcloaks. Hadvar launched into an attack against the one that was closing in on the mage, and I ran off to help the other man against his attacker. As I neared the battle, the Stormcloak – a woman with her hair running in a braid down her shoulder – slammed her ax into the throat of the Imperial. The blade swung all the way through the man's neck, and his head rolled down his neck and bounced off his shoulder. His body fell forward and landed on his rolling head while blood gushed from his destroyed neck.

"NO!" I screamed. I shot a spout of fire at the woman as she turned around. She just turned her body slightly and the fire lapped at dry leather. She hid her uncovered arms and glanced just barely over her shoulder until I was closer. She twirled around quickly and her ax soared through the air towards me. I raised my left arm just in time to block the incoming weapon – painfully, might I add – with my steel bracer. I felt the bones in my left arm shatter and I growled in pain. The woman smirked at my discomfort and raised her ax to attack me again. I ducked beneath her first blow and did all I could to dodge the rest. Her ax swings increased in speed and savagery as she pressed her advantage against me. I backed away as quickly as I could, until I was eventually pinned on the wall.

"Die, Imperial bastard," she spat at me as she raised her ax to kill me. I snarled and lashed out with a magic that my mother taught me as a child – a rare spell only Imperials could perform that dulled an enemy's senses and tricked them into believing I was a friend. The Stormcloak woman's eyes glazed over and her ax drifted down to her side. I snarled and shoved the tip of my sword forward; the blade rushed through her chest and pierced her heart. The shock of the cut broke the illusion of my magic and the woman's eyes unclouded. She looked down with the last of her life, and her eyes glazed over with death. I raised my foot and kicked the woman off of my blade.

I sheathed my blade and raised my left arm. Pain shot through me, and I had to grab the broken forearm with my other hand – more pain shot through. "Damn," I growled. I quickly unbelted the armor from my arm, and the metal fell away covered in blood and bits of bone; I hissed as the wound was exposed to air. I altered the flow of Magicka to my left hand and a beam of yellow light arced around my shattered forearm. The bone snapped back into place and regrew in an instant, which was almost as painful as the wound itself had been. The skin and muscle then stitched itself back to normal and I had to resist the urge to scratch the itching sensation that came with the healing. I clenched my fist as the sensations running through my arm ceased, and found the muscle and bone were perfectly resealed. I looked at the top of my forearm, and smiled: there was no scar.

I looked down at my broken armor and sighed. "Should probably wear all the armor," I mumbled to myself as I looked down at the ax-borne gashes in my robe. I drew my sword again, and rushed to help Hadvar and the mage.

I had little cause to help them, however. As they came into my view, I saw Hadvar's blade rush through the Stormcloak's midsection and up into his chest. The man hit the floor, dead after only a few moments. "Damn. My assistant died," the mage said with a cursory glance over at the other Imperial man. He rolled his eyes. "I'm going to need another."

"How can you be so callous!?" I shouted. I stomped towards the man and grabbed him by the cuff of his armor. "He was a person!"

A jolt of electricity ran through my body and I dropped the man. I heard metal clatter against the ground – I still had my sword out when I had grabbed the man. I twitched from residual foreign Magicka rushing through my body before I picked up my sword and sheathed it. "He was a person," I snarled again. I looked over at Hadvar. "Let's get going." I looked at the mage beside me again and scowled.

"Yes – leave me be," the man said. He walked over to a metal cage with a counter and chair within. I felt my fist quiver as I stared at the disgusting excuse for a man that we had left behind.

"Don't mind him. Torturers are... a callous bunch," Hadvar said. He grabbed my shoulder and dragged me out of the room. I glared still at the torturer as we walked down a flight of stairs. "I hate them, too."

I looked over at Hadvar, who continued speaking, "But they're necessary, I suppose. The Stormcloaks are brutal traitors, and people – no, animals – like them only respond to force." He furrowed his brow and repeated his words. "They only respond to force." I believe, even now, that he was trying to convince himself of those words more than he was trying to convince me.

The two of us continued down the stairs of the keep, and passed through a cavern full of Imperial soldiers. "Hadvar, is that you?" one soldier cried out. The huge, blonde man rushed towards us, and his hand clasped Hadvar's. The two pounded chests and laughed heartily. "By the Eight, you're lucky to have gotten here!"

"Oh, I bet Sven!" my partner said. He glanced over at me and then back to Sven. "Do you have any extra supplies here we could grab? This man and I are looking for the General – and I have to warn my family down in Riverwood."

"So you're not going to stay," the other soldier said. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded. He gestured over his shoulder. "We have some extra armor back there. Some weapons, too."

"You aren't going to come with us?" Hadvar asked.

"No, someone needs to help guide out any civilians that come through here," Sven replied. He grinned and ran his hand through his blonde hair. "Besides, someone has to cover your ass, eh?"

Hadvar smiled. "I suppose." Then he turned to me and said, "Come on, Luc. We'll need to get you some new armor."

I nodded and followed Hadvar, who waved goodbye to his friend. I walked over to the pile towards which Sven had pointed. The heap of metal was Imperial in design, steel in material. Good, strong armor – if one was not prone to use of the semi-mythical armors that few in the world seemed to possess. Daedric armor? I'd seen a set once. Imposing, and strong enough to break steel.

I sifted through the discarded armor and exchanged my tunic for a steel _lorica segmentata _emblazoned with the draconic symbol of the Imperial military. As I fished for another gauntlet, I found my eyes would keep falling on the dragon. In my mind I heard the roar of the monster that had, well, saved my life. "_Dovahkiin_," I muttered to myself. I felt a low rumble pass through my flesh, then shook my head. "Wha?" I shook my head again. I reached into the pile again and pulled out a bracer for my left arm. For good measure, I even exchanged the iron sword at my hip with a steel one.

"Ready?" Hadvar drawled. I gave an affirmative nod.

"Are you sure you want to leave?" Sven asked Hadvar. The brown haired Nord turned his attention to his blonde counterpart.

"No, I'm sure. Someone needs to warn the outside world, maybe even get to Solitude and warn Rikke. I need to go, friend," Hadvar replied. He held his hand out, and Sven clasped Hadvar's forearm. The two shook hands and let go. "See you soon."

"Count on it," Sven said.

Hadvar nodded and walked away. I looked around at the soldiers for a moment, then turned to follow Hadvar into a cave system used for smuggling and escape. Despite the horrors these soldiers had endured, they retained a sunny disposition. Truly the Nords are a people who thrive on battle.

Hadvar walked through a short hallway and stopped shortly before a wall of wood. He pulled a lever to his right, and the bridge fell. He cautiously put one foot down on the ancient wood then walked quickly across the creaking, rickety thing. "Okay, come on," he ordered. I nodded and jogged after him.

As we went down the winding path, deeper into the caverns, the walls and floor slowly became completely covered in a white substance that crisscrossed and stuck to my shoes. Spiderwebs. "There must be tons of spiders here," I grumbled to myself. I swatted at the nonexistent spiders crawling on my arms.

I heard Hadvar gasp and basically ran into his back. He was staring at spiders. "Or..." Hadvar said. These three spiders were bigger than Hadvar. I drew my sword with a grin.

"Only three?" I boasted. "These, I can handle by myself!" I twirled the blade in my hand and rushed forward with a fistful of flames.

I dodged and ducked under streams of poison that the spiders were launching from their mandible-y mouths of horror. The gelatinous blobs of poison slammed into the wall behind me until I reached the first spider. The eight legged monster lashed out with one leg – a stupid idea, really. I raised my steel sword in defense and the incoming leg severed itself cleanly against the shining metal right at the joint. The spider recoiled as its primitive mind was filled with pain.

As I slammed my blade into the first spider's eight eyed face, I could see Hadvar slicing through the legs of another spider. I shoved the spider off of my sword using my left foot and turned to the third spider. This one was larger – almost as big as the other two had been combined. The hulking arachnid's soulless eyes reflected Hadvar and me eight times over. I made the first move and rushed at its legs.

The spider lashed out with its front limb and I brought my blade up to slice through the chitin leg. My sword, however, was knocked right out of my hand. The spider lashed out again, and I felt myself flying through the air. I collided with the wall and heard a sickening crunch. My head ached, and blood clouded my vision.

I mustered all the willpower I could, and focused a stream of healing magic into my right arm. The light flowed across my body and I heard, rather than felt, the bones in my head snap into place. Pressure in my skull disappeared, and the flow of blood into my eyes was stemmed.

As my vision returned, I saw Hadvar was struggling against the hulking arachnid. I growled and grabbed my sword from the ground next to me. I summoned a shower of magickal lightning to the hand holding the sword. The metal began to store the electricity running from my hand. The spider, as I was doing this, lashed out with its leg at Hadvar and the Nord stumbled to his knee. I snarled and threw the blade, full of magickal energy, at the arachnid. The magicka infused steel collided with the spider at the junction of its head and body, where the metal slid between the segments of its chitinous armor. The lightning within the blade exploded outward, then, and the spider seized up. The body began to smoke as the monster was cooked from the inside out.

I walked over to Hadvar and helped him up as the spider collapsed. One of its legs shivered momentarily as I collected my sword from its corpse. "Damn spiders," I cursed. I added in a kick to the now brittle chitin, and my foot was covered in cooked spider goop. "Gods..."

"Well, at least it's dead," Hadvar suggested. "But what's next? Giant snakes?"

I laughed. "Gods, I hope not."

We walked down the next winding passageway, unaware, then, that we had been passed by a certain elf and rebel.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"Two more of my brothers..." Ralof hissed. He ran his fingers across both men's faces to shut their eyes for the eternal slumber in whatever hovel the Nords use as an afterlife. Ralof sighed deeply and stood up. He walked over to the barrel next to his fallen brethren and collected potions for our later use.

"Do you ever think about giving up?" I asked as I stared at the bodies on the ground. Losing that badly... I would abandon the Thalmor if they were losing like it looked the Stormcloaks in the keep were. Of course, the Imperials did have a few Thalmor agents on their side "rooting out" the rebellion. They did their jobs to the best of their expert ability... unless ordered otherwise.

"Of course not!" Ralof responded. "Every drop of blood spilled from the veins of the true sons and daughters of Skyrim is blood that _must_ be repayed!" He roared in anger and kicked the wall.

"I'm sorry," I supplied in my 'damsel' voice – I was getting pretty good at it – and walked over to the Nord. I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Aren't you afraid it will be you one day?" I leaned my face towards his.

Ralof snickered and pushed me off. "You're an ally – a friend. But you're still an elf. As far as I go, that's not sex material, woman." The Nord walked through the next door with a laugh.

"Well, that'll make controlling him harder," I muttered to myself as I followed. "Worth a try, though."

I walked behind the Nord, both hands ready to tear my sabers from their sheathes at the slightest show of danger. "I – I'm sorry about that," I explained. The Nord stopped, grunted, and turned to me. "It – I got caught up in the moment. I don't know why I – I'm sorry."

"Eh? Oh, don't worry. It happens to the best of us," he said. I let the awkward silence fester until it would become final – he would never bring the occurrence up _ever_. He would assume that our "friendship" would be crippled by such a thing. Through the silence, we heard the grumbling of an Imperial accent.

" – stards. Some even _like_ the torture..."

Ralof's eyes widened and he turned to stomp off. I grabbed his shoulder. "No. If we're too loud, we could alert _all_ the Imperials. Allow me." Ralof stared at me inquisitively as I said this. I smiled and bounded lightly off to the end of the stairway.

I placed my back against the stone wall and peered around the corner. Only one Imperial was sitting in the torture chambers, his only company two dead Stormcloaks and an equally dead Imperial soldier. The living man was sitting still behind a counter surrounded by an iron cage. I smiled condescendingly out of the corner of my mouth and crouched until I was sure that the Imperial would be unable to see me. I drew one of the swords from my hip and turned around the corner. I heard Ralof hiss, low and almost too quiet for even my superior Elven ears to hear. I walked slowly and daintily towards an opening in the metal cage. The torturer didn't even move.

I grinned again and crept through the opening in the cage. Just for personal flourish, I rolled across the ground until I was directly behind the Imperial. I put one foot – _very _slowly – in front of the other, over and over until I stood just a foot or two behind where the man sat. I raised my sword to shoulder level, and made my move. I grabbed the man by the face with my off hand, muffling his cries. The leather on my hand kept him from biting through my fingers as I held him silent. I brought my steel blade to his neck and, as slowly and cruelly as I could, slit the man's throat. There was a delicious irony in it, giving him a torturous death.

The man fell to the ground when I let him go. He began gasping for air and struggling to stand up, to drag himself upwards. He slammed his hand into the chair he had just been sitting on and tried to pull himself to a standing position. I pulled the chair away and watched his face slam into the stone floor. The man's blood began to flood out around his head, and the man died in a pool of his own filthy, human blood.

I looked behind the man and saw a collection of small daggers. I picked the four blades up and stuck them into my belt. Then, I walked out of the cage and slid my sword back into its place at my side. I made it a point to step on the other Imperial corpse on my way to Ralof's position. "It's done," I said.

"Good!" the Nord responded with a grin. I supplied one as well. Ralof pointed to a hallway at the other end of the room. "We should keep going. You first – you're sneaking will be useful for taking out any Imperials we find here on."

"Thank you for the compliment," I responded demurely. I followed Ralof's instructions and took the place before him. I made a point to walk slow enough that even the hulking brute behind me would be able to move quietly. It was _painstaking_.

Finally, we arrived at the entrance to a large room filled with boisterous Nords dressed in Imperial regalia. I signaled for Ralof, behind me, to stop and returned my attention to the Imperial soldiers. They were just... sitting around. They were doing _nothing_. Nothing at all. Talking about gods know what. Mead and phallic over-compensation?

Anyways, human foibles aside, the room was poorly defended in the extreme. Four of the soldiers sat in a circle, talking. Two others, equipped with bows, leaned opposite each other on pillars of stone. I looked around and grinned as I saw a piece of loose stone on the ground. I looked across the room and tossed the debris as far as I could. The stone collided with the wall on the far side of the room and the attention of all six Nords flew to the area across from our entrance. I quickly took two of my new daggers from my belt and lined up my throws.

The first dagger found its mark, the archer closest to us that no one was watching. The entire iron blade buried itself in the man's neck, cutting off any scream he could make as he died. The next slammed into the other archer's thigh – the man died screaming while blood flew from the wound like a river. The attention of all four surviving Nords was immediately cast about the room, looking for me. "Damn," I said. I turned to Ralof. "Usually my aim is better."

"That was fine," he suggested. He drew his sword from his hip. "But now the fun part!" The Nord rushed forward into battle with the four Imperials. I heaved a sigh and followed the crazed man.

I drew my twin blades and they glinted in the torchlight. I swung them faster than most humans could see and the blade in my right hand decapitated one soldier before any of the others saw me. Two-thirds of the remaining force then decided I was a greater threat than Ralof and turned their weapons on me. "You killed Sven!"one of the men shouted.

I laughed internally. "There's a lot of Imperial bastards that I've killed," I replied coldly. I deflected the two incoming blows and I realized that the fight I was about to enter was going to be child's play. I lazily twisted between the attacks that ached to send me to my death. I did not even bother attacking the two poorly trained soldiers until their blades eventually clanged together in a poorly conceived twin attack. As the partners arms became entwined and they struggled to escape the trap that their bodies had crafted, I raised my two swords and jabbed them forward at breakneck speeds – literally. My two sabers sliced through the necks of the men and crashed through the bones within. I allowed the bodies to slide off of my swords by fault of gravity and turned my attention to Ralof's battle.

The blonde Stormcloak was easily defeating his opponent – as I noted, poorly trained Imperials. Ralof's blade was smacking against the other man's sword and eventually knocked the iron from the man's hands. As Ralof raised his blade to kill the Imperial, I threw my sword and the blade cracked through the Imperial soldier's skull and into his brain, killing him instantly.

"Hey!" Ralof shouted indignantly.

I grinned at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought we were racing. I mean, I killed five before you even had the chance to kill one."

Ralof scowled at me, but that scowl quickly became a laugh. "Well, I think I've killed more Imperials in the long run, Thera."

_I doubt that. _I thought back to the glory days of the Aldmeri-Imperial war. Assassinations had been commonplace, and hundreds – if not thousands – of Imperials had fallen by my hand. Especially Blades agents. There was something fulfilling about murdering _them, _with their superior attitudes and indignant scorn for the Dominion.

"Well, we should get out of here," Ralof said. He glanced at a pile of weapons and armor in the corner of the room. He tossed his sword to the side and pulled a steel ax from the pile. He gave it a few good swings before sliding it into his belt. He slogged up the stairs and out of the room. I looked down at the Imperials at my feet with a slight smile. I could feel that it was a call of times yet to come.

With that, I followed the Nord as quietly as I could. We walked down a long flight of stairs and into a system of caverns. The walls and ceiling grew ever more covered by white thread as big around as my wrist. "Giant spiders," I said with a quiet laugh. I drew my twin swords and ached with anticipation for a fight. I saw Ralof with his ax in hand, the same bloodthirst running through his veins.

Unfortunately, the monsters were preoccupied. "Is that not another of the prisoners..?" Ralof asked. He turned to me as I watched the scene before us. The prisoner was cutting his way through a giant spider while his partner – one of our Imperial _captors _– dealt with another spider. Both of them were dressed head to toe in heavy Imperial armor.

I slid my swords into the sheaths on my hips. "Ignore them. We can go around them, escape Helgen while they deal with these spiders."

Ralof narrowed his eyes and I could hear the blasted movement of the thought through his tiny human brain. "Alright," he finally said. He slid his ax back into his belt and gestured for me to take the lead.

I walked past the Nord and watched as both the Imperial Soldier and the other prisoner were knocked away and out of our path by the spider. I smiled at the convenience and took off at a full sprint. Ralof followed closely behind me and the two of us rushed past the spider. Our movement attracted the unnaturally large creature, and it turned away from the fallen Imperial and towards its new prey – us. I glanced over my shoulder to see the Imperial standing again and attacking the spider's flank. The arachnid's attention was immediately diverted to the more immediate threat.

"I think that's the first time I have _saved_ an Imperial," Ralof said as we came to a stop to catch our breath.

"Aye," I agreed with a laugh. I took a deep breath and looked towards the exit. Ralof followed my eyes with his own and grinned. He took off running. I followed behind him across natural bridges. We approached the final cross, when I grabbed the Nord's shoulder.

"What was that for?" he asked loudly.

I shook my head. "Look!" I hissed. I pointed across the bridge. Ralof's eyes widened as he saw the huge, sleeping bear sitting beside a lit brazier. The giant, brown furred creature groaned in its sleep and the chamber echoed with the lazy growl that belied its true strength.

"Well, what do we do now?" the Nord asked.

I took a heavy breath. My only way out that still fulfilled my mission was to kill the bear. I drew my swords. "Wait here," I said finally. To myself: "I hope this kills it."

I walked as quietly as I could across the bridge and turned my two swords around in my hands. I angled my hands and the blades rested against the backs of my arms, ready to stab into the slumbering hunter before me. As I neared the bear, I drove my blades forward and into the bear's right flank, eliciting an angry roar. I immediately flew back as the huge claw of the bear swatted me away. The bear lumbered upward with an angry grunt. Its dark eyes glared at me through the darkness and it limped towards me.

"I'll save you!" Ralof shouted. He ran across the bridge, swinging his ax. The steel sliced through the bear's ear on the first strike, and buried itself in the bear's right shoulder. The beast roared and its claw struck Ralof. He went tumbling through the cave. The bear turned back to me and began walking. I hissed air into my lungs and prepared for the end with open eyes. A coward, I was not.

The ax buried in the beast's shoulder had other plans for me, however. The bone of the creature must have ground against the blade's edge, or the ax must have shredded precious tendon; the bear fell forward before me. The massive beast crashed as it tried to stand again and rolled onto its left side, leaving my swords sticking straight into the air. I grinned at the good luck and walked casually to the bear's side. I collected my swords from the monster's hide, bringing another pained and guttural growl from its throat. I crouched by its head and it groaned again, almost pleading with me. I sneered and brought the blade of my sword through the bear's head.

Ralof trotted over a few minutes later. When he saw I was not hurt, and that the bear was dead, relief flooded his face. "Good. I was worried I had failed Jarl Ulfric," he said simply.

"Aye," I agreed. I sheathed my blades and tore Ralof's ax from the shoulder where it rested. I walked to his side and handed him the ax. "The exit's this way: come on."


	4. Before the Storm:Riverwood Approach

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

When Ralof and I exited the cave, the black dragon was screaming through the skies above. Its roar echoed across the mountains of Skyrim, and flocks of birds flew in fear of the noise from every giant tree. "Okay, looks like he's gone," Ralof said. He turned to me and sighed. "Thanks for your help – I wouldn't have made it without you."

"It's no problem," I responded with a humble smile. Ugh, this was the worst part of spying in human lands – acting weaker than these, in their words, "milk drinkers." I heaved a sigh and shrugged. "What now?"

"Now? Now... you're free. But it would be nice if you helped me get to Riverwood – my sister Gerdur and her husband run a mill there and would be happy to help you out. Maybe you could get some sleep, even."

I rubbed the back of my neck. I had been awake since receiving my assignment in this gods-forsaken land. "Sleep sounds nice," I replied as the hours awake finally caught up with me. I yawned and shook my head to force some semblance of alertness back into my mind.

"Aye," Ralof agreed. He looked down the hill. "We should hurry, before any Imperials get out of Helgen."

I nodded, and Ralof took off down the hill. I jogged after the Nord, who began speaking to me again. "You know, the Empire just tried to kill you, so they obviously are not your biggest supporter. If you ever need anywhere to hide out – or if you want to help strike a blow against the Empire – just head to Windhelm. Jarl Ulfric will always be a friend to an enemy of the Empire."

"Even an elf?" I asked.

Just as Ralof prepared to answer, a trio of wolves rushed from behind trees and towards us. I drew my twin blades quickly and lashed out at the nearest wolf. I saw Ralof dealing with another one, and returned my attention to my own enemy. I sidestepped the simple attacks of the animal, and dealt a series of sharp jabs to the creature's flank. The feral wolf jumped at me again, and I buried my sword in its neck. The wolf whimpered, low and quiet, as lupine blood oozed from its neck.

While I shoved the creature off my blade, a snarl came from behind me; I turned just in time to see the third wolf – _Gods, I forgot there were three! – _tackle me to the ground. My swords fell from my hands and clattered against the ground, useless. I threw up my arms and gripped the wolf by both the top and bottom of its jaw, preventing the sharp teeth from tearing through my throat.

Even as the feral wolf and I struggled on the ground, the beast growled and snarled above my head. Spit and flecks of old animal flesh from between the wolf's teeth fell onto my face and ran down my cheeks. "Ugh!" I snarled, half in anger and half in disgust. I brought my legs beneath the wolf as we struggled and, as powerfully as I could, kicked at the wolf's body. The wolf whined and flipped through the air onto its back. I looked to my right and my hand scrabbled against the rock for the sword beside me. My fingers grasped the handle just as the wolf recovered from my kick. The beast jumped towards me, snarling once more. I brought my sword up and pointed the tip at the wolf. The creature, already mid-air, could not stop and its mouth plunged around the steel. The blade erupted from the top of the creature's head, brain and blood flying everywhere. The creature's body, however, still landed on top of me. I struggled against the dead weight of the corpse atop my body, and yelped in relief when the weight disappeared.

"You need to pay more attention," Ralof suggested above me. He slid his ax into his belt an clapped his hands together. Bloody fur erupted into the air around him and drifted to the ground. After a few moments of poorly cleaning his gloves, the man reached down and clasped my hand. He pulled me up without so much as a grunt of exertion. "You okay?"

"Fine," I replied as I picked my second sword up from the ground. I rolled the wolf's corpse onto its back again and pulled the sword brutally from its skull. "I'm just tired – as you said."

"Aye. Anyways, as I was about to say, we allow elves in Windhelm, even now. Dark Elves."

"That live in a ghetto," I pointed out. "Because they aren't... 'superior Nords?'"

Ralof was quiet at that. "Look. If the Empire is out of Skyrim, it's better for everyone. We wouldn't have to deal with their bureaucracy and weakness. We'd also be free of the Thalmor – and it didn't seem that they liked you. Sounds like a plus for everyone involved."

"I agree," I said after a few moments of deliberation. I delivered a kick to the wolf's body for good measure as I noticed a soreness in my left shoulder. "So. Where's this town?"

"Ah... first, we should see the guardian stones," Ralof said, grinning. "Three of thirteen standing stones that dot the homeland, that respond to special individuals. I mean, we survived a dragon attack – I think one of us would be a safe bet for 'hero material.'"

A few minutes later, Ralof had me standing in front of three... stones. "They're decorated with three Guardian constellations," he explained. He walked over to one and ran his fingers across it. "Warrior, Mage, and Thief. Supposedly, like I said, only heroes can activate them. They give people... special divine blessings. It's never worked when I've tried, but maybe if you..."

I blinked. "You really think -" I began, but I saw that Ralof was indeed deathly serious. "Fine. Fine."

I walked up to the three stones, still skeptical. Ralof stood outside of the triangle of Guardians. "So I just -" I froze as my fingers ran across the warrior stone. A blue light ignited within a small, circular hole near the top of the stone. The light shot through the air and into the bright blue sky, where it disappeared into Aetherius. "Wow."

"I've never seen them interact with anyone before..."

I ran immediately to the Thief stone and ran my fingers across the face of the constellation. The figure lit up and the light shot into the sky. When I turned to do the same to the Mage stone, I saw the light of the Warrior stone had gone out. "W-what happened?"

"Oh – the legends say you can only have one of the thirteen active at any time. I'll be on the road to Riverwood – just down this path. Choose your stone and catch up with me." The Nord turned on his heel and walked down the stone street. My eyes followed him until he turned around a bend and disappeared from view.

I returned my attention to the three stones around me. I glanced between the Warrior, which was no longer lit, and the Thief, which still sent the luminous, blue Magicka into the sky. As I walked towards the Warrior stone to reactivate its gift, whatever that may be, the sound of two voices – a Nord and an Imperial – drifted into earshot. My eyes shot open, and I turned and ran from the voices as they grew closer.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"I'm telling you, I saw a light, just over here!" I told Hadvar as we ran down the hill. We reached the bottom of the hill, where three stones stood together on purposely placed tile-like rock. I turned down the path and saw the surprising crimson of elven hair. "It's the other prisoner! The one that was with a Stormcloak!"

Hadvar turned with me. "She's an elf wearing Stormcloak armor – there's no way that the Stormcloak is still alive."

I furrowed my brow and stared after the woman sprinting away from us. "Then why'd she run?" I asked. When Hadvar didn't answer, I turned back to the Nord, who was staring at the three stones.

"Is this where you saw the light?" the Nord man asked me.

I scratched my head. "Um... yeah, actually. But there isn't one – I must've imagined it."

"No, I don't think you did," the soldier said. He turned to me. "These stones – they're blessings named for the Guardians. They're three of the thirteen Constellation Standing Stones that dot Skyrim's landscape. Heroes... heroes can use them. Those chosen by Akatosh – they've never worked for me or anyone else that I've ever met."

I walked towards the stones. "So... someone was able to use them?" I asked. I walked towards one of the stones and stared at the constellation – the Mage – that was etched into its face. After a few moments of scrutiny, I reached out to trace the constellation with my thumb. A shock of Magicka jumped from my hand to the stone, and the bright blue fluid of pure Nirn-borne Magicka shot into the sky.

"Well, apparently not some_one._ Congratulations hero. Which one do you choose – you can only have one. Rules of the Ni – Eight, and all."

"Only one?" I asked. I stared at the three stones – Thief, Warrior, and Mage. "I'll keep the Mage Stone, then."

"Mage, eh? Well, to each his own. It's not for me to judge," Hadvar remarked.

"You Nords and your distrust of magic," I groaned as I walked with the soldier. "It saved quite a few times in Helgen, if you don't remember."

"Aye, that it did. No reason to make me feel guilty," he acquiesced. "It's just... pounded into us. Necromancy, Daedra summoning. The Oblivion Crisis? Magic doesn't do good things."

"Neither do all thieves or warriors," I pointed out. I continued walking down the path to Riverwood with Hadvar. "So your uncle, Alvor, you're sure he'll help us?"

"Aye, he will. He's a good man. If you need anything, _hero_, he'll help you," Hadvar said. He glanced over his shoulder at the standing stones. "Gods... you're chosen. That's an honor, you know?"

I didn't look back at the stones. "I do. But that's not always a good life," I replied hoarsely. "My father could use similar stones – they're all around Cyrodiil. His life was not easy – he died in the battles against bandits and such that popped up everywhere after the war with the Thalmor. Died a 'hero' when I was but a boy."

The walk was quiet for a while as that settled in. Finally, I asked, "Do you really think I should join the Legion? I was a prisoner – do you really think Tullius will accept my help?"

"Of course! I know, today wasn't the best introduction to the Legion, but I hope you'll give us another chance. The Legion could really use someone like you, especially now. And if the rebels have themselves a dragon, General Tullius is the only one who can stop them," Hadvar replied as he walked alongside me.

I nodded. "You make a good case. Maybe I will join up," I said. I sighed and rubbed my eyes while we continued walking. "Ugh, I've been awake for almost a day. Is there a place to sleep in Riverwood?"

"There's a Tavern, you can rent a room. And on the topic of you joining the legion: I hope so. The Legion is Skyrim's only hope right now, be it against the rebels or the Thalmor."

I nodded. "I agree. I've seen what the Thalmor are capable of – the rebels would never be ready against that."

"What do you mean?" Hadvar asked.

Flashes of torture tools ran through my mind, followed by rivers of blood, cities ablaze, and the caclke of Thalmor. "It was... I have had some bad experiences with the Thalmor as a child. After my father's death... my mother wasn't far behind. There were a lot of orphans running around, then. Order was hard to come by. And the Thalmor took advantage of that. Civil War is drew me here – I just wanted to disappear off their radar. Guess that ship has sailed, eh?"

"Hm..." Hadvar replied. "I'm sorry I brought it up. It sounds like it there are some painful memories that you don't want to share. I don't blame you, of course. If your story is anything like the rumors about Northwatch keep... My apologies."

"It's not your fault, Hadvar," I assured. "You just wanted to know what I meant. That's normal, I mean, everyone asks if I accidentally bring it up."

"Still – I'm sorry," Hadvar replied. He took a deep breath and pointed forward. "Here we are – Riverwood."

The town was small – quiet, perhaps even cozy. There was a lazy current of energy that just drew me in, made me want to settle down in the small village. It would have been a beautiful life – had dragons not found their way into the world. Not much one can do to stop the End Times living a simple life in the smallest village of Whiterun hold. "Uncle Alvor!" Hadvar shouted. The sounds of a smithy that I had not noticed stopped in the background. "Hello!"

A Nord man, who looked much like an older Hadvar, walked down the stairs form the smithy and frowned. "Hadvar, what are you doing here? Are you on leave from..." the man's words trailed off as we walked closer. "Shor's bones, what happened to you, boy? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Hadvar looked around, scared. "Shh... Uncle, please. Keep your voice down. I'm fine, but we should go inside to talk."

Alvor frowned and stared between us for a moment. "I – Okay. Okay. Come inside, then. Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it."

_**Jul**_

**Angeir**

The old man knelt uncomfortably on the stone floor of High Hrothgar. Prayers to Kyne, the mother of the Tongues and Queen of the Skies, flowed from his lips like a river. "AL-DU-IN..."

The man's eyes flew open. The river of prayers to the sky-goddess froze mid-word. "AL-DU-IN..." The old man's arms dropped to his side, and the breath in his lungs rushed outward. "DA-AL... AL-DU-IN..."

The old man stood up quickly and his knees creaked painfully. He groaned in discomfort and walked slowly, but purposefully, to the doors of his abbey. "DO-VAH-KIIN... ZIIN... KRI-ZAAN..."

"Shor's wounds," Angeir breathed to himself while the sound of Kyne's warnings ran through the air. Suddenly, the roar of a dragon unfamiliar to the Greybeard rang across the mountaintop. Angeir looked up to see a black harbinger of death flying through Kyne's domain. "Gods... Alduin returns from the oceans of time... Is there nothing that can save us?"

"DOVAHKIIN!" the air rang, clear and painful. "**DOVAHKIIN!**"

Angeir fell to the powdery snow, and the voice of Kyne rang to his ears once more, quiet and peaceful. "DOVAHKIIN ZIIL KRIZAAN. JUL AHRK FAHIIL, IRKBAAN AHRK DREM, SULEYK AHRK ORBALAAN. DOVAHKIIN ZIIL."

The Greybeard could not understand every word – fluency in the dragon language for humans was not true fluency. "Dragonborn... Two Dragonborn?"

The old man stood once again. "But who are they? _Jul ahrk fahiil_? Man and Elf? But... but who?"

"FEN KOS GENUN KO TIID," the voice of Kyne explained soothingly. The wind whispered the words through the snow and the clouds and the towers and the fire. The words of the gods themselves bringing tears of fear and joy to Angeir, spokesman of the Greybeards.

"Blessed, Kyne, thank you. Mighty Akatosh, thank you," Angeir prayed. "Thank you."

The roar of Alduin shot through the distant skies of Skyrim once again. Angeir watched the beast fly to the south, towards Falkreath hold. The black beast flew with dark purpose that echoed with its every wing beat. Angeir knew that the destroyer of the world hunted Nirn's saviors. The monster knew who the two Dragonborn were, and Angeir could only hope that at least one survived the brutality that was rushing towards them.


	5. Before the Storm:The Golden Claw

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I sighed as I exited Alvor's home, and rubbed the back of my head. When he had invited Hadvar and me into his home, Alvor had been excited – jubilant even – to see his nephew safe. Once the soldier had explained why we had come to Riverwood, however, Alvor had quickly grown worried. At first, he had laughed nervously, disbelieving even. "A dragon? That's..." Fear crossed the Blacksmith's face, but he continued, "That's ridiculous. You aren't drunk, are you boy?"

Alvor's wife, a blonde Nord woman by the name of Sigrid, piped up then, "Husband. Let him tell his story."

Hadvar had quickly replied, "Not much more to tell. This dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don't know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I'd have made it out myself if not for my friend here. I need to get back to Solitude and let them know what's happened. I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to stay."

"Of course!" Alvor exclaimed, fear running behind his eyes. "Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help however I can." The blacksmith quickly gave me a small pack of food, drink, and some gold to help me. He smiled, then pulled me aside.

"What is it?" I asked. The blacksmith made a hand motion, and I began to whisper. "Is there something you need?"

Alvor's mouth became a grim line behind his beard. Finally, he said, "The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless... We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt."

I took a short breath as I prepared to say no – I was going to go to Solitude to help the Legion, after all. My eye caught the image of Alvor's young daughter, frightened by the story, hugging Sigrid tightly. The words that came out of my mouth were far from the decline I had anticipated. "Of course. I'd be happy to help."

Alvor's face had lit up. "Gods be with you," he had said. "Come by the forge any time you need new armor – I should have some soon. For now, you should get your armor replaced at the store across the road. A funny Imperial by the name of Lucan Valerius runs it. He was just robbed, and he might give you a discount if you agree to help him out."

I walked across the dirt road and entered the general store. "Well one of us has to do something!" a woman shouted. I looked through the doorway at a young woman with deep brown hair shouting at a man that could only be her brother.

"We are done talking about this!" the man shouted back.

"Well what are you going to do about then, huh!? Let's hear it!" the young woman shouted again. She crossed her arms and waited with sarcastic expectation.

"I said no! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!" the man screamed back. The woman flinched, and walked away from her brother. The man – likely the Lucan Valerius that Alvor had mentioned – noticed me in the doorway and growled to himself.

In an amicable voice, he said to me, "Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that."

In the background, the man's sister shot something at him sarcastically under her breath. He shot her a look, then returned his attention to me. "Alvor said that I could get some new weapons and armor here," I explained. I clapped my hands together and rubbed my palms against one another. "You know – I could help with whatever that was all about."

Lucan raised an eyebrow and considered me, unsure of whether I could be trusted. "Well..."

"Look, I can buy the armor and weapons off of you. I told Alvor I would make it to Whiterun and... get the Jarl's help with something," I said, careful to avoid talk of dragons. I didn't need Lucan thinking me crazy, or worse, thinking the dragon was chasing me.

"Look, there was a break in," Lucan said, apparently deciding he could trust me. "The thieves only took this one thing – a Golden claw. They took it off to Bleak-Falls Barrow. You bring me the claw, I'll give you the armor for free."

"I can get it," I explained. "Just tell me where to go."

"I think your new helper here needs a guide!" the young woman said, finally piping up.

Lucan's eyes flew to his sister angrily. "WH – Camilla – NO!" Lucan shouted. He stared at his sister for a moment, then sighed and let his head drop. "Oh, by the Eight, fine. But only to the edge of town."

Camilla smiled and dragged me out of the store, saying "Now, if you're going to get those thieves, you should head to Bleak Falls Barrow, northeast of town." She led me down the road and through the town until we arrived at a stone bridge over the river adjacent to the town. "This is the bridge out of town. The path up the mountain to the northwest leads to Bleak-Falls Barrow."

"Thanks," I said. I gripped the handle of the sword at my hip, wondering how I could always succeed in getting roped in to such things without any effort.

"No problem," Camilla said with a smile. She sighed and turned around towards the town. Over her shoulder, she said, "I guess I should get back to my brother. He'll throw a fit if I take too long. Such a child..."

I laughed half-heartedly and looked up the mountain. "Every time I try to do something, I end up doing a thousand things," I groaned. I heaved a sigh and took the first of many steps up the mountain. "Better get going before so I can make it up before nightfall..."

The trek up the mountain was dangerous, and fraught with both bandits and creatures that would kill me as soon as look at me. Every aggressive being, be their souls black or white, fell to my blade and fire. After one such encounter, I extricated my blade from the neck of a Khajit woman who had attempted to tear my throat out with her claws. "Nen aak hi..." I whispered to her, and the mountain itself trembled beneath my feet. I stood up quickly and looked around. "What did I say?"

I waited for a few more moments, awaiting the dragon that must have made the mountain move, yet there was no such return. As the quiet began to stretch on, I sheathed my blade and continued my walk up the mountain to Bleak-Falls barrow. The ancient tomb was not far off from the tower where I had been forced to kill the Khajit, and it took me only a few minutes to make it to the Barrow.

Outside the entrance to the barrow, there were huge carved stones decorated with archaic yet beautiful art of dragons and the men that had long ago worshiped them. Fires from their maws danced across the stone and scorched the earth. "Well, what do we have here?" I heard. I dove to my left and an arrow buried itself in the stone pillar I had been admiring just moments earlier. I pushed myself to my feet and drew my sword. I stared down my would-be murderer and unleashed a volley of firebolts. I rushed forward in the wake of the fire and my blade sliced through the neck of the Orc bandit. His green skin became slick and red with blood as my sword cut through his chest and erupted from his back in a fountain of blood and flesh. I pulled the sword from his chest when I heard a scream of rage, and turned my attention to the two bandits rushing towards me – the Orc hadn't been alone.

I deftly deflected the first incoming blow launched against me by a Nord woman with a mohawk, then delivered a single firebolt to her chest. The woman screamed in pain and struggled to put the flames on her body out while I dealt with her partner. The other bandit, an Argonian man, swung a huge, Dwarven-make ax at me. I sidestepped the incoming blow and jabbed my sword forward and through the reptile's throat. I pulled the sword out and continued with the motion until my blade fluidly arced through the neck of the Nord woman. The two bodies hit the ground almost simultaneously, and I returned my sword to its sheathe. I tore the bow and arrows from the grip of the first bandit then walked away from the triangle of dead bodies and into the barrow.

The tomb was a dank, disgusting place. As I walked slowly through the entrance room, I saw a skeever the size of my torso dead on the floor next to the bloody corpse of a bandit. "Ugh," I grunted to myself. I walked past the corpses for a moment until I heard two voices. Bandits. I pulled my new bow from my back and nocked the first arrow.

"... Arvel runs off with that golden claw?" one of the bandits asked.

"The dark elf wants to go on ahead, let him," the other bandit replied. "Better than us risking our necks."

"What if Arvel doesn't come back?" the first bandit asked, eliciting a harsh laugh from his partner.

I growled under my breath and ignored the rest of the conversation. Lucan and Camilla had been correct – the bandits had indeed come to Bleak-Falls. I lined the arrow up with the head of the closer bandit, then moved the top of the arrow so it was aimed slightly above his head. I took a single deep breath and, as the last of the air left my lungs, let the arrow go. The metal and wood flew through the air with a barely audible whistle and the string on the bow twanged musically. After an infinitesimally small span of time, the arrow collided with the bandit's head. He shrieked in pain for but a moment as the metal tip of the weapon burrowed through his temple and into his brain.

I swung the bow's drawstring around my shoulders and drew the sword at my hip. The surviving bandit turned towards me with a battle cry as his friend fell, dead, to the ground. The man and I rushed at each other, each prepared to deal a death blow to the other. The bandit swung first. I deflected the iron blade in the bandit's hand and kicked my leg out. My heel collided with the man's kneecap, and he screamed in pain as his leg bent in the wrong direction. I raised my sword and plunged it into the flesh between the man's clavicle and neck. He died almost instantly.

I resheathed my sword with a heavy sigh. "Gods, why did you curse me this way?" I asked. I stared up at the ceiling for a moment, waiting for an answer. "Must death and mayhem follow me like this?"

The wind rushed through holes in the walls, and a chill ran through my bones. If that was the answer of the Nine, it was not the one I had been hoping for. "Aye," I grumbled. I stepped over the bandits' bodies and continued through the silent tomb, accompanied only by the firelight that glowed warmly in my left hand and the snow that flew before me, dragged by the wind entering the tomb.

Eventually, I was walking down a flight of stairs and came upon a room with a bandit in it. I drew my blade and walked towards him as slowly as I could, hoping to keep the element of surprise. The bandit approached a lever on the ground in the center of the room. "Hm... what's this?" he asked absently as he pulled the lever. The man gasped in pain as darts flew at him from across the room and punctured his flesh. He fell to the ground, his body thrashing wildly against the stone. I watched in horror as the bandit's movements slowly stopped and a froth flowed slowly out of his mouth. I knew he must have been poisoned by the darts.

I put my sword back at my hip and walked into the room. The lever was set a few feet before a large, iron gate that barred advancement through the tomb. The snow carried by the wind drifted between the bars of the gate and continued through the tomb. I knew, in my heart, that I needed to follow it. I looked above the door, and saw two stones shaped like ancient faces. Carved into the open jaws – or beards, Nords are weird – were a snake and a whale. Between the two stone faces was rubble, as if another face had fallen. I glanced around the room for a moment and quickly saw the final face, another snake, lying on the ground beside me. "Snake, snake, whale," I muttered to myself. "But why?"

I looked around the room once again and caught sight of a trio of triangular, obsidian standing stones, each decorated with a different animal on the face pointing outward. Each stone sat atop a circle with a triangle indent pointing towards the outer face. I walked, instinctively, towards the three stones and frowned. "Eagle, whale, snake?" I asked myself, reading the stones right to left. I walked over to the eagle stone and looked around it – the other faces of the stone were decorated with a snake or a whale. I took the stone in my hands and grunted while I twisted the snake-adorned face into position before the triangle – _an arrow! – _and went on to do the same with the second stone. As I twisted the third stone into position, whale-face outward, I felt a sense of... everything being correct. I walked over to the lever and pulled it. I waited with bated breath for darts to fly into my body and kill me, but no such death came for me. The metal gate groaned as it was pulled from the floor and the doorway was open to me.

"So are you looking out for me, or just laughing?" I asked the Nine, combining sarcasm with actual thanks. The wind carrying the snow twirled jovially before rushing down the tomb. I sighed and followed what I increasingly believed to be the Divines' will.

The next few rooms were mostly empty and devoid of any life, save a few skeevers the size of small dogs. The rats were quick to fall to my blade and magick. "Help! Help!" My eyes widened at the noise and I sprinted ahead, barely noticing the spiderwebs that crisscrossed the stone beneath my feet. "Help, oh Divines help!"

I ran through a stone doorway and into a room where the walls were blanketed with feet of silky spiderweb. "Oh, thank the gods!" a dark elf shouted at me. He was stuck within the spiderweb, the silky substance crossing all around his body so he was suspended above the ground. "Kill it!"

I almost asked what it was – almost. Instead, there was a huge thud as a frostbite spider – larger even than the one Hadvar and I had dealt with at Helgen – descended from the ceiling on a spindle of webbing. I drew my sword fearfully. The beast was huge. I back-stepped a few feet as the monstrous creature landed on its hooked feet, each hitting the sound with chitinous clacks. I took a deep breath, and steeled myself for battle. I rushed towards the spider, who spat venomous projectiles towards me. I dodged each gooey splatter by the skin of my teeth. I unleashed a gout of orange flames at the spider, and the feet clacked backwards. The spider backed into the wall, every move accentuated by the fiery pain rushing through its body. I snarled as I continued rushing at the beast, and fell to my side. I slid beneath the arachnid and buried my blade in its underbelly; green goop gushed from the wound and onto my body as I continued sliding beneath the spider. I pulled the saber from the arachnid and stood up as quickly as possible as the spider crashed to the ground. I rubbed the spider-guts off of my face and spat some out, as well.

"You did it! You killed it! Now cut me down before anything else shows up!" the Elf said.

"Arvel?" I asked. The elf raised his eyebrow and nodded. I furrowed my brow. "Give me the claw first."

The elf flew into a rage, pulling at the webs. "Does it look like I can move!?" he screamed. His limbs pulled uselessly against the webbing. "You have to cut me down first!"

I narrowed my eyes. "But you will hand over the claw?" I asked. The elf nodded in response. I stared at him for a few more moments, unblinking. Finally: "Fine." I stalked over to the elf and began to saw through the webbing around him with my sword and with fire. Eventually, the bonds holding Arvel broke, and he fell to the ground. As I reached out to help him up, the elf shoved me and took off running.

"I knew I couldn't trust him!" I growled to myself. I shook my head and took off after the elf. "Damn – he's swift!"

I chased Arvel the Swift through the tomb, always staying a few steps behind. "Arvel, stop! There are traps!" I shouted. The elf laughed at that and ran through the next doorway and into the actual "tomb" part of the barrow. The air lit up with magicka. "No... Arvel, stop!"

"N – What in Oblivion!?" the elf screamed. There was a hissing, dry groan and the sound of steel burying itself in flesh. Arvel's voice breathed a death cry that mixed with the new dry voices and signaled the end of his life.

"Kren Sos Aal!" the dry voices hissed.

"Kren hin fent!" I shouted at the voices. I froze as the alien language escaped my lips. The creatures, however, did not freeze. The creatures, dead with hollow blue eyes and dry, gaunt skin, rushed towards me screaming their foreign, twisted words. I backpedaled in fear and fired bolts of magickal fire at the dead. The name Draugr came to mind staring at the monsters that approached. The first few died – again – from the fires after just a few moments. Eventually, there was only one more Draugr left walking. I bared my teeth and rushed forward, driving my blade through the chest of the creature. It gasped as the remains of its life – one that should long have fled to Aetherius – flew from its body.

"Ha... that wasn't too bad," I grumbled to no one in particular. I stalked over to Arvel's body and claimed the golden claw from his bag. I stared sadly down at the lifeless body. "Rest in peace."

I continued onward, stepping around the obvious trap in the floor. I knew that I could turn around, leave the barrow. But something called me onward – the snowy wind blew ahead of me still. The air seemed to hum with the quiet yet powerful words "Zahnir Bormah mok."

I shook off the feeling that I was hearing gibberish from the tomb around me, and continued through the rooms of weak and nearly dead Draugr. A few were a bit stronger than the first group I had encountered, but they were alone, luckily. Akatosh _was_ looking out for me, I guess. Eventually, I came upon a large hall that ended in a door of which I had never seen an equal. I traced my hands in awe across the bear, owl, and butterfly carvings on the door in three concentric curves around a claw-shaped indent at the center of the door. I laughed lightly and excitedly as I pulled the golden claw from my pack and stuffed it into the door. I twisted the shimmering claw, trying to unlock the door, but the stone stood firm.

I growled in annoyance and took the claw from the door. I kicked the center and began to grumble to myself. I leaned against the door, placing my hand on one of the slabs above the keyhole. I jolted upright, full of surprise, as the slab I was leaning on... turned. I stared at the slab, which had changed from butterfly to bear. I widened my eyes and toyed with the three slabs until I was sure it was another animal puzzle. I looked around the room, running up and down the hall looking for a clue. "By the Nine!" I cursed to myself. I took the golden claw from my pack and began to toy with the combinations on the door. Twenty-seven attempts later, I was done. "Finally!" I grumbled as the door before me slid into the floor. I turned the claw in my hands around to shout at it. "You stupid – The answer was on the palm of the claw the entire time. Great." I growled at my stupidity and slid the claw back into my pack.

I walked through the doorway and stopped suddenly. The air was filled with this... energy. My soul seemed to reach out of my body, mixing with and complementing the energy. Taking it in and growing from it. "What in Oblivion..?" I gasped as I found myself following the energy without any regard to what could be waiting for me. My feet stumbled across stone and up steps to a huge, semi-circular wall adorned with scratch marks. I stared at the marks, bemused by how familiar they looked. I walked into the curvature of the wall, and froze. One of the scratch marks – a _word_ – was glowing in brilliant yellows, oranges, and reds. I stared at the energy that flew from the wall and to me – or perhaps from me and into the wall. With a curiosity that probably killed the Khajit, I walked towards the word with my hand outstretched.

_**"**__**Fus..."**_

I clamped my eyes together and shook my head as the word rang through my head, so loud that I could not hear myself think. "Gods..." I groaned. My hands flew to my head and I hissed in... not pain, really. It was just so different, and I can't really describe the feeling.

"Dir volaan," a voice hissed behind me. I shook my head to clear my mind, and drew my sword. I turned to face the source of the voice, and my eyes met the hollow, glowing orbs of a Draugr. But this Draugr was different – the others I had fought were weak, almost laughably so. Power and intense hatred seemed to roll off the dead skin of the remnant in front of me. The undead man was so tall even I had to look up to see his face. A huge ax was clutched in his hands, glowing with a dull blue that hinted at the frost magicks laced through the metal. Armor that appeared to be the same color as the sunken flesh of the Draugr hung, rusted, from ribs that were too narrow for the metal.

I gulped down the fear in my throat and raised my blade meekly. The undead creature seemed to stare at me in disgust, for a moment, then slashed its weapon at my head. I yelped and ducked beneath the blow, rolling until I was behind my foe. I came to my feet just in time to receive a dull punch to my gut from the handle of the ax. I stumbled backwards, clutching at my midsection. I regained my focus, and launched a fire bolt at the Draugr, who shrugged the blow off as if I had hit him with a fly. He advanced towards me, slowly and cruelly. He dragged the blade of the ax on the ground behind him, causing a fountain of sparks to erupt behind him. "A bit dramatic, don't you think?" I mocked. The creature merely laughed in response, and struck at me again. I used the flat of my blade to shove his incoming ax blade away.

"_FUS RO DAH!_" the undead said. I immediately felt a pulse of magickal force collide with my entire body. I flew from the platform upon which I was being accosted and collided with a pillar of rock twenty feet away. I fell the remaining ten feet and grunted painfully. When I tried to stand up, I winced and fell back down – the fall had fractured some ribs, and probably some spine. I channeled magicka into my left hand and set myself to the task of healing myself before the Draugr made its way to me.

The Draugr, despite being dead, was surprisingly fast. He advanced towards me with what looked like sick satisfaction glinting in its blue eyes. As it got close enough to kill me, it raised the ax above its head. Fortunately, that was when the bones in my body reset. I screamed in rage and plunged my sword through the Draugr's exposed upper chest as quickly as I could. The undead man swayed in place, staring down at me intently with its blue, dead eyes. "Nox hi, Dovahkiin."

I panted heavily as the light in the Draugr's eyes fizzled out, and the monster's ax cluttered against the ground. His hands fell to his side, and his chin hit my blade coming out of his chest. I breathed heavily for a few more moments, then kicked the creature off of my sword. I took a few steps towards an exit I could see above the wall, then stopped. I turned around and walked towards the Draugr's dead body, which was surrounded by a cyclone of snowy winds. I collected the twice-dead monster's ax and slung it over my shoulder for future disenchantment. I looked down at the Draugr's twice-dead body and collected a small pouch of gold from its hip. As I took the pouch from its belt, my eyes fell on a heavy stone at its side. I felt something... calling me to it. I reached out slowly and grabbed the stone and... nothing happened. "Maybe it's worth something," I grumbled to myself as I placed it into my pouch.

Gods, I had no idea.


	6. Before the Storm:Whiterun

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I watched in silence as a group of four foolish Nords assaulted a giant. I crouched behind a rock just far enough away that the humans would not see or hear me – or the giant, for that matter. I did not have a death wish.

Neither, it seemed, did the humans. A large man with a steel sword longer than I am tall stood before the giant, drawing its attention and somehow shrugging off the obscenely powerful blows that rained down on him in the form of the giant's mammoth-bone club. Behind the giant, two humans slashed their swords at the monster's legs – a vain effort, for the wounds most likely felt the same as bug stings to the huge creature. The fourth human stood apart from the others, aiming a bow and arrow carefully at the giant. Suddenly, the arrow flew from her bow with a _twang_ and rushed through the air towards the head of her target. The giant roared in agony as the arrow pierced its eye, and the giant fell to its knees in pain. As it cried painfully on the ground, the large man brought his large sword down on its head. There was a crunch that even I could hear, as far away as I was, and blood rushed from the wound like a geyser. Brain and blood rained down on the large man, who screamed in victory and passion. I gasped and stared at the scene in awe for a moment, then felt my blood freeze: the woman was staring right at me.

I stood up and began to walk casually down the road towards Whiterun to warn the land of dragons – Ralof's aunt had asked me to warn the local lord, the Garl, or Yar, something human and stupid like that. I had agreed in an attempt to further cement the trust of Ralof, and perhaps the trust of Ulfric Stormcloak as well. I glanced over at the sight of the warriors bathing in the blood of the giant, and noticed with an internal start that the woman was gone. "Well that's taken care of – no thanks to you," her voice came from behind me. I flinched and turned around quickly, both blades drawn. There were few who could sneak up on me – and none of those I had ever encountered were humans.

"Ahem... You didn't look like you needed help," I replied with a conciliatory tone. I sheathed my twin swords with a sigh.

"Ha! Certainly not. But a true warrior would have relished the opportunity to take on a giant. That's why I'm here with my Shield-Brothers," the woman mocked.

"Ah, you are a Companion," I said, the final term she used ringing familiar from my briefing on Skyrim.

"Impressive – not many outsiders know of us," the woman said. She crossed her arms and glared at me. "Especially elves."

"Then you have not met the correct elves," I retorted. "The companions are admired across Tamriel for their strength in battle – and you are feared because of your connection to Ysgramor Elf-Bane."

"Hm – yes," the woman said. She considered me for a moment. "There is a certain fire to you – perhaps you would belong with us. If you are interested, see Kodlak Whitemane in Jorvasskr. He'll test you."

The woman turned around and began walking to her allies, not even giving me a second thought. I narrowed my eyes as she walked away. _Damn human,_ I cursed inwardly. I considered killing her and her allies, but decided against it. Not only was it not worth the legal exposure it would cause, but she and the large human would cause me no small amount of trouble. If all warriors in the Companions were like them, it would be critical to my mission to... decimate them from within.

I shook my head, knowing I would deal with the human guild when the time came. In the meantime, I had to make my way to the local noble's castle. I walked past acres of farmland, around the huge walled city atop the hill to my right. The castle – a keep known as "Dragonsreach" – jutted into the sky from atop the hill. Eventually, I passed a stable and made my way up the hill to the entrance of the city.

"Halt!" an overly aggressive human guard shouted as I approached the gate. I stared, unimpressed, at the man's armor. He was dressed the same as me – but with yellow everywhere the blue on my armor was draped. I pursed my lips. I needed new armor. "The gate's closed with the news of dragons about."

I sighed. "That's why I'm here," I replied. _Stupid human_. "I was at Helgen."

The man froze fearfully. "Helgen?" he asked. He sheathed his weapon, and I could practically smell the fear running off of his dirty human skin. "I – The Jarl will want to see you straight away. Go to the keep, quick as you can!" I nodded and waited for the man to open the gate. When he finally did, I stepped through the huge doors.

Whiterun was a large enough city. Nords – and, indeed, other humans and the occasional elf – ran about doing their business with impatience. I overheard a woman arguing with a Nord man about supplying armor to the Imperials. My head turned in that direction, and I stared past the woman at the blacksmith shop. I grinned to myself and quietly made my way, unnoticed, into the building.

As I exited, I was very different. The familiar weight of the golden armor of my ancestors supplied a feeling of my far off homeland of which I was sorely in need. I cracked my knuckles behind my armored gloves and finished strapping the second elven blade to my hip. I glanced over my shoulder at the smithy; stealing from humans is always fun – and affordable.

I checked the straps of the armor once again and walked up the many hills of the city with purpose. I passed countless stores and arguing groups of humans. The city seemed to be split down the middle in the civil war. Two ancient and respected families, the Battle-Borns and the Grey-Manes, each took the position of leadership for the different factions. The Battle-Borns, rich from trade with the Empire, were the staunchest supporters of the failing human government. The Grey-Manes, meanwhile, believed in the incredibly foolish and inane power grab of Ulfric Stormcloak, the unwitting Aldmeri asset. I took special note of the two families for my mission to extend and exacerbate the civil war, and moved on.

I stalked past Jorvasskr and an insane priest screaming about the "Glories of Talos, god of Men!" I rolled my eyes and thought about how nice it would be to alert the Justicars to the presence of the Talos Worshiper in Whiterun. Maybe I would even get to help with the torture at Northwatch Keep. I grinned at the thought.

I pushed myself through the huge doors of the keep, and was immediately greeted by the sounds of the noble and his advisers arguing. I chuckled to myself and walked through the hall towards the noble. One of the man's advisers, a Dark Elf woman, caught sight of me and drew her blade. "Who are you? State your business or be cut down," the woman demanded as neared me. Her stance was threatening and revealed the great battle prowess she held.

I laughed slightly. "Do not worry, Sister. I come to offer help – I was at Helgen."

"You were at Helgen..? Come along then," the woman said. She sheathed her blade and began walking towards her noble. Without so much as a glance back: "And do not call me sister, Elf."

_Just my luck, the first elf I meet in Skyrim is a Nord in disguise, _I thought. Still I followed the woman and removed my helmet. I looked enough like my Dunmer mother to not appear a Thalmor to the humans around me. Maybe not to the Dunmer herself, but I would deal with that if or when the time came. "Jarl Balgruuf, this one says she was at Helgen."

The Nordic Jarl, a giant of a man decorated with expensive clothing, stared at me with intelligent – for a human – eyes. His unruly mop of blonde hair that mingled with his well groomed beard shivered from the quick movement of his head. He stared at me for a moment, his vision calculating. "So. You were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?" he asked finally. His accent was thick – thicker than most of the humans I had encountered so far. Somehow, however, the accent made him easier to understand. _Am I starting to speak like these sub-Mer freaks?_

"Yes," I said, struggling to _not_ accent my Aldmeri accent. "I was. And I offer my help. Riverwood calls for your aid."

"What's this about Riverwood being in danger?" he asked, shifting in his throne. He stared at me intently, worried for his people. Admirable, if weak.

"Gerdur sent me – she's afraid for her home. Riverwood needs your protection," I explained impatiently. "And I can tell you what I know of the dragon, however little that may be."

The Jarl nodded slowly, considering his optio"ns. "Gerdur? Owns the lumbermill, if I'm not mistaken," he said. I raised one brow, hopeful that all the lords were just as attentive and weak as this man. "Pillar of the community. Not prone to flights of fancy... And you're sure Helgen was destroyed by a dragon? This wasn't some Stormcloak raid gone wrong?"

I nodded. "Huge black dragon, called fire from the sky, burnt almost everyone to a crisp – I barely escape with my life."

"What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?" the Jarl asked, his face pointed towards a fidgety Imperial on his right side.

"My lord," Irileth began before Proventus could reply, "we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains..."

The Imperial adviser gasped, and immediately rejected Irileth's idea. "The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him."

The Jarl raised his hand and growled, "Enough! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl."

Proventus shook his head, and began, "We should not..."

Balgruuf interjected quickly, "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!"

The Imperial was silent for some time, then: "If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties."

"That would be best," Balgruuf said. He watched the Imperial walk away slowly, then turned to me. "Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem." The Jarl handed me a dwarven blade that burned with Magickal fire. I smiled in thanks and replaced one of the blades on my hip. I positioned the third blade on my back, and waited.

Balgruuf continued speaking as soon as I finished organizing my armor. "There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps. Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... rumors of dragons."

The man stood from his throne and walked through his hall and into a side room. As we walked, the Jarl said, "Farengar is probably puttering around in his lab. Day and night. I'm not sure he ever sleeps."

"Oh no, that's not right," a wizard grumbled to himself as we walked into the room.

"Farengar, I think I've found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill her in with all the details," the blonde man said. The mage turned quickly and stared at me with contempt in his eyes – he thought me just another brute.

From the hall: "But I was sent here to warn the Jarl about the dragons! To get help for Riverwood!" The voice shouting was... familiar. "I need to help! I promised Alvor I would!"

"Alvor?" Balgruuf whispered. Louder: "Let him in."

A man dressed in dwarven armor ran in to our enclave, and bowed to the Jarl. "Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf," he muttered.

"Yes... well, you are not the only one to come and warn me of dragons," the Jarl explained. The armored man stood straight and his eyes widened when he looked at me.

"Wait – you were a p- at Helgen, as well!" I pointed out.

"Thera, was it?" he asked, distrust running across his eyes. I saw his left hand grab the hilt of his dwarven sword.

I smiled disarmingly. "Yes, and you are... Lucius, correct?"

"Yes," he said. His grip on the sword lessened somewhat as he saw that I held the Jarl's trust.

"Well, then, Farengar work with them." Balgruuf turned from the room and walked from the room.

The mage sighed and looked between Lucius and me. "Fine. I guess I have to deal with two more 'great warriors' trying to earn the Jarl's favor," the wizar grumbled.

Lucius' eyes narrowed angrily. "Watch out," he said, "you'll step in your own shock rune."

The mage looked around wildly. "What? I didn't – Ah, you have some knowledge of the magickal gifts, eh? Well, seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way."

Lucius smirked. "Oh, indeed." He glanced at me, as if he believed the remark referred to me. "So what do you need?"

"Straight to the point. I like it," the mage said. His attention was entirely on Lucius, as if I was invisible. Perhaps the mage's pointed remark _had_ referred to me. Fool.

"Mages," I growled under my breath.

The mage continued speaking. "Well, there's this item, a big stone. It's in Bleak-Falls -"

"Wait, Bleak-Falls Barrow? I was just there," Lucius said. He smiled widely and pulled a stone adorned with deep, artistic cuts from his pack. "Is this what you were looking for?"

The mage's eyes widened. "I'm impressed. Y-yes. This is the Dragonstone. Well done."

Suddenly, Irileth ran into the room. "Farengar, a guard just reported in from the Western Watchtower – there's been a dragon attack. The Jarl needs you," she said. The mage nodded and rushed off to his master. Irileth took a few steps, then turned back to Lucius and I. "And you two should come as well." She turned away and ran off to aid her human master. I had always thought that humans were the lowest creature, but I had been wrong. The lowest creature was an elf so broken they would serve a human, especially the brutish Nords.

I looked over at the human, who glared back at me with distrust. "You helped that Stormcloak escape," he stated.

"And you the Imperial soldier. What of it?"

"Elves don't just help Stormcloaks," he replied gruffly. He turned to follow Irileth. I raised my eyebrow and watched him leave.

"He's smart," I mumbled to myself. "Too smart." The human _had_ to be dealt with before he figured anything out. And there was a dragon nearby ready to do just what I needed.


	7. Dragon Rising

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"Looks like the dragon was already here," I noted as our group gazed at the burning ruins of the Western Watchtower. Charred bodies surrounded the ruins of the guard tower, laying in the eternal agony of their last moments upon Nirn. I slid a look of 'concern' for the human corpses onto my face. "This is terrible."

Lucius glared at me from behind his dwemer helmet. He hid his distrust well behind the mask, but I could tell his every movement was punctuated with an innate hatred of me, reaffirming my need to deal with him before he figured out the reason I was in Skyrim. "Indeed," he agreed, nodding his head simultaneously.

"Let's get down there – spread out and search for survivors," Irileth commanded. I watched the disgrace for an elf and my target lead the way down the hill towards the crumbling watchtower. My eyes followed the fools down the hill for a moment before I followed at a safe distance.

I looked at the bodies of the dead Nords with disgust. Many of them held weapons in their burnt hands, as if they had tried to fight off the dragon by themselves. "Mun mey," I snarled. I continued walking for a moment towards the watchtower, then froze. "What did I say?"

"What are you doing? You have to run for it, before the dragon comes back!" a Nord voice screamed from the watchtower. "It grabbed Hroki and Tor, then just flew off. We have to get out of here before it -" The sound of a violent roar echoed across the rocky plains. "Gods... it's come back!"

The roar screamed again, and a black beast appeared flying through the sky. "Make every arrow count!" Irileth screamed. I saw the Dunmer woman pull a bow and arrow from her back and aim the weapon into the sky. The yellow-clad soldiers around her pulled their weapons out, mirroring the Dunmer woman.

I thought to myself that, perhaps, I was wrong about the woman – a rare thing, for me to grant a second assessment. Irileth held the absolute respect of the animals that her will commanded, drawing complete and total obedience from even the weakest; even the survivor of the dragon's attack on the watchtower could be seen standing with his brothers at Irileth's side to defeat the incoming monster.

The dragon flew near with a scream of rage. Arrows flew through the air towards the monster, a brown and yellow dragon much smaller than the one that had attacked Helgen. The wood and meal sailed uselessly through the air and fell back to the ground, for the dragon was flying beyond the range of the arrows. "Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!" the dragon screamed from the sky.

I scoffed as the dragon flew down to hover above us – why would it place itself so within our range of attack? My answer came as each beat of the creature's leathery wings knocked the incoming arrows back at those who had sent them with twice the speed. The metal tips rained down upon our mortal force, killing human guards but glancing off of the armor of many more. "Take this!" the dwarven-clad human shouted. Bolts of surging magicka flew from his hand in the forms of fire and lightning on a path towards the dragon. The magicka burned through the wings and scales of the dragon, who roared once again – a cross between joy and rage.

"Krif krin... Pruzah!" the dragon screamed. The wing beats of the dragon slowed and the huge reptile allowed its massive body to glide carefully to the ground. "Die well, mortals!" The claws of the dragon hit the ground atop to of the Whiterun soldiers. Blood erupted from their flattened bodies, coating the dragon's claws and legs in red.

"Svelki!" one of the humans screamed. He ran towards the dragon, screaming like the barbarian he was. The fiery breath of the dragon came with another shout of its ancient language, the red-hot magicka burning through his flesh and roasting him from the inside out.

Lucius growled. "We have to be smarter about this!" he shouted. He leveled his saber at the dragon as it roared with laughter. "I'll take the creature's face! Irileth and your soldiers: wings. You -" he glared at me angrily. "Thera: The tail. Go!"

I smiled. The fool human was basically guaranteeing he would die at the dragon's hand – or claw, be as it may. I ran behind the dragon as the human began to distract the creature from the front. I slashed my blades at the tail of the creature, content with the knowledge that the creature would contine to ignore me. The battle went like that for a few moments, my weapons cutting into the creature's tail while the human held the attention of the creature. Soon, however, the creature began to flail and attack from all sides. I struggled to sidestep the wild thrashing of the scaly and barbed tail, barely holding on for my life.

"This isn't worth it," I growled to myself. I narrowed my eyes and ducked beneath another wild swing of the dragon's tail. I glanced beneath the dragon to see how Lucius was doing. It seemed that the fool was struggling against the dragon's assault and I grinned. "Time to leave and survive then." I sheathed my blades and disappeared from the battlefield to watch from a distance – Elenwen would want a full report on the dragons. As soon as the humans were dead and the dragon had fixed its attention on setting the human city ablaze, I would make my way to the Thalmor embassy and explain its capabilities to my superiors.

I crouched just out of view behind the Western Watchtower and began my observations.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I took my place at the head of the dragon with fire in my soul. For the first time in – Since... For the first time in a very long time I felt... at home. With a dragon breathing fire at me. Things in my life obviously haven't gone well if dragon fighting – something no one's done in centuries – felt normal. "Eh, mal dovah! Krif krin – bahlaan hokoron!" the creature screamed at me through its gnashing, footlong teeth. The teeth snapped towards me, and I brought my blade forward. The edge collided with the dragon's snout, causing fragments of scale and droplets of blood to fly around me. The Frost enchantment I had placed on my blade coursed through the dragon's body and crystals of ice formed across its scaly hide.

The monster snarled in pain and rage at my attack. It snarled a few words, and flame rushed from its mouth. I gasped and threw up a ward. The fires collided with my magickal shield before it was fully formed, and the clear energy in my hand shattered. I stumbled backwards and the flames licked the heavy metal hanging on my shoulders. The metal that was not separated from my flesh by a layer of leather burned my skin and I gasped in pain. "I can't let it keep doing that – I'll die of heatstroke!" I grumbled to myself. I shouldered a snap of the dragon's teeth with my armor and slashed my blade through one of its horns.

"Ruth joor!" the dragon shouted as my blade traveled through its bone. The dragon snarled and slammed its head into my body, sending me flying back. I tumbled across the ground, and saw the dragon leap atop a group of the soldiers attacking its flank. As I dragged further through the dirt, I noticed that I could not see Thera.

_Dead or traitor – hope it's the first one_, I thought. I stumbled to my feet and charged the dragon. _That's... No – I hope she's not dead. There's a possibility she isn't Thalmor_. I ran towards the head of the dragon, where its teeth were carving a bloody and fiery path through the bodies of the human soldiers. "NO!" I screamed. I leaped forward, my blade outstretched. The dragon turned to gaze at me as my blade neared its head and it breathed in to summon its words of power.

"Yol – Tuu-" the creature began.

"NO! Nahlot mahlaan gein!" I shouted, the air trembling around me. The dwarven blade cleaved its way through the dragon's eye, burying itself in the dragon's brain. The dragon screamed and writhed on the ground in rage. It whipped its head around painfully, struggling to throw me off.

"NO! DOVAHKIIN?! NO!" the dragon screamed. Its back arched into the air, finally throwing both me and my blade into the air. I sailed into the sky, directly above the gaping mouth of the dragon. The creature roared again, its last breath of life and suffering communicating an entire lifetime spent destroying those it saw as weak. I hit the ground as the dragon's head did. My body groaned from the impact, and I felt consciousness rushing from my body. I wondered, for a moment, if that was the end.

I only heard about what happened next. I've seen it time and again ever since – but I doubt that what I have seen since lives up to that experience.

I came to a few moments later, a bright energy reminiscent of the Word Wall's power came rushing towards me. My body began to act of its own accord – my bones seemed to mend, and my mind grew clear, despite the pain I had endured. Fire – energy – built up in my chest. Life and pain and... and _force_ rose in my chest. I stumbled painfully to my feet, terrified as the energy continued growing in my chest. "What just happened?" Irileth asked. I looked over at her from beneath my helmet, and a feeling of vertigo overcame me. I tore my helmet off, the pressure in my chest building over and over again.

The dragon was fleshless – mere bone and dust filled with the armor and flesh of the soldiers it had devoured. It looked as if something had taken its life, its soul.

The energy continued building in my chest, rising to my throat.

"A-are you okay?" Irileth asked. I looked over again and saw Irileth staring at me with concern. Behind her, Thera studied me analytically – she hadn't run away, apparently.

I opened my mouth to respond, but only one word came out... **"****_FUS_****!"**

_**Dovah**_

**Alduin**

The gargantuan black dragon hissed with disappointment as the thu'um of a mortal Dovahkiin ran through the air, a first shout. Mirmulnir had failed in his task to destroy both the Dovahkiin and the human city. Alduin noted that he should not have been surprised – for Mirmulnir to have survived the millenia since the downfall of the dragons, he would have been a more cowardly member of the Dov. Only Paarthurnax, the traitor, and a few other cowardly dragons had survived the aeons since. The many Dovahkiin that had been born across the ages, as well as their "Blades" servants, had exterminated the Dov.

And, now, a wave of energy cascaded across Nirn. Alduin felt the soul of his brother flying away, stolen from Mirmulnir by a being whose power was gifted by Akatosh himself. "You curse me, Father? Why? Am I not as you made me?" Alduin asked from his perch near the entrance to Sovngarde. As usual, the Dragon of Time had no answer for his once-favored son. "Ruz Zu'u fen dreh ol Zu'u fen."

"Dovahkiin, Zu'u fen du hin sil."

_**Jul**_

**Angeir**

"**_FUS!_**"

Angeir's head whipped upwards and towards the sky. The sound echoed across the mountain from where it had originated, pain and fire and soul resounding from the one who had just learned of their voice. Sun and fire and death and life – the one who could save Nirn from its encroaching doom.

Angeir looked towards the other Greybeards and nodded. The monks drew in their breath as one, and the noise that came from their lungs seemed to crack the heavens themselves.

**_"_****_DOVAHKIIN!_****"**


	8. The Way of the Voice:Interlude

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

**"****_DOVAHKIIN!_****"**

The shout echoed down from the mountain at the heart of Skyrim, the Throat of the World. The noise shook the ground beneath my feet, the sky glowed with power, and the air shivered with anticipation. My soul seemed to do the same. The words ring clearly in my ears even now, after so much time has passed. **_DOVAHKIIN_**. My mind could not make sense of the word that tore across an entire province, but my soul... my soul _burned_ for the word. Every syllable, every letter called my soul and tugged my feet towards the mountain and off my path towards the Thalmor embassy.

Somehow, I was able to stop myself. The air around me shivered again for a moment, then I was free. The call was silent, yet present, in my bones. I pieced the word together with my own tongue, "Dov-ah-kiin," I whispered. A shiver ran up my spine that echoed the word, the noise bouncing between my vertebrae. Honestly, the power of the word was – is – intoxicating.

I turned my feet from the mountain and the call of the word went silent once again. I nearly muttered the word to myself once more, but was able to resist. Another utterance of that word would have destroyed my will to resist its call entirely. Instead, my feet pounded Northward across the dirt of the frigid Nord homeland.

Days later, I stood within the personal chambers of the Thalmor ambassador to Skryim. "Thera, how goes the mission?" the High Elf asked. She uncrossed her arms and stared down at me. She narrowed her eyes. "I assume there have been... complications."

I laughed dryly. "Indeed there have, Ma'am," I replied. I smiled, amused. "The world has become a very interesting place as of late, hasn't it?" I ran my fingers across my elven helmet on the table, tracing the intricate designs of my ancestors – designs butchered by the humans who had attempted to emulate them.

Elenwen's usually cold, stressed face broke into a small smile for a moment. "Indeed it has," she agreed. Then her face returned to its stony demeanor. "But enough with pleasantries. Report."

I nodded obediently and took a deep breath. "There are, what I believe to be, three elements that could threaten the extension of the civil war. The first of these elements is known to you."

"The dragons," Elenwen remarked. "Indeed. What of them?"

"I recently had the... opportunity," I explained, "to observe one in action."

Elenwen's expression lit up. "You have my undivided attention," she stated. She took a step closer and leaned forward intently.

"Dragons are... forces of nature. Their scaly hides can take immeasurable punishment, deflecting swords and magicka. I saw a single dragon kill a small army of human soldiers in a few moments. They breathe fire using Magicks I have never before encountered in my missions and travels. Some form of speech that creates fire. Dragon wings beat hard enough to repel arrows, and their claws and teeth easily carve through armor and flesh. They are incredibly strong, and look down on all mortals."

"They are gods?" Elenwen asked.

"Perhaps. More likely they are children of the Aedra," I theorized. "Perhaps even the immortal ancestors of the now-mortal Argonians or the Akavir invaders from the second era."

"Did you discover any weaknesses?" Elenwen asked after a short silence.

"Next to none, I am afraid. The eyes, apparently, are weaker than the surrounding scales. However, the fire breathing and sword-like teeth make them a less than viable option." I sighed. "Other than that... well, I'll explain a bit more with the second complication.

"The second issue is one of the other prisoners from Helgen. Lucius, the half Manmer half-Imperial."

"What could be so dangerous about a human?" Elenwen laughed. "Are you losing your touch?"

I sneered openly at my superior's mocking tone. "Coming from one that hasn't seen battle since the great war? Please. Besides, this human has a... fire. He killed the dragon, and from its body he took _everything_. The flesh of the creature melted into nothingness, feeding the human. The guards claimed he was a mythical being if he could do that. One who could absorb the souls of Dragons. The Dragonborn."

Elenwen's face froze in fear. "D-Dragonborn? Are you sure that's what you heard?"

I analyzed my superior's expression. "Yes. I'm sure."

She shook her head fearfully. "Dragonborn – again? _Dammit_," she barked. She caught my confused expression and began to laugh. "The Dragonborn are warriors capable of... destroying armies. The last Dragon-blood warrior conquered all of Tamriel, fought his way through countless enemies, and defeated the Aldmeri Dominion. Tiber Septim – a supposed god – was the last Dragonborn. Another could mean... _damn_."

"Do wish for me to kill him?" I asked.

"No... Not yet. He can kill dragons, and is thus useful. Perhaps even necessary. The Blades have something to do with this... I know it... I will information gathered on the surviving Blades, on Esbern especially. And this Lucius... the name sounds familiar to me..." Elenwen's mind drifted away into thought.

"Do you want me to finish my report?" I asked. It was an interruption of her thoughts, and surprised the woman. She glared at me, unforgiving, for a moment, then nodded. "The third element that threatens the war is whatever made that noise days ago. They were calling something powerful, I'm not sure what. But the earth shook from their power."

"'Dovahkiin?'" Elenwen asked. I felt a shiver run up my back again and my feet itched to rush towards the mountain again. "We heard it. It's just gibberish."

"Perhaps..." I agreed silently. "I request that you allow me to investigate. Whatever it is that called out, knowledge on their existence will be important."

"Fine," Elenwen acquiesced. "Report in as soon as you are finished, however." I nodded obediently. "Dismissed."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The Throat of the World is the tallest mountain in all of Tamriel. The Nords believe that the peak of the mountain is where Kyne first breathed a new type of life onto Nirn and birthed mankind from the earth and sky. The Nords believe, thus, that Skyrim is the true homeland of man, from where the Nedes traveled to Atmora before recorded history. For this reason, since the dawn of history, the mountain has been a holy place for all kinds of Man. The same religious beliefs have led some Mer to hold it has become a hateful place, the womb of their most hated enemy. If the rumors are to be believed, the Dominion had a plan to melt it down to slag during the Great War.

"Seven thousand steps," I mumbled to myself as I came to the top of the mountain, a frost troll skull tied atop my pack. "More like the path of seven _hundred_ steps." I had, to my shame, counted the many stone stairs that jutted out from the mountain face even while I fought frost trolls and ice wraiths. Neighboring the stairway had been tablets containing vague fragments of the Greybeard's history. The stories didn't make much sense to me, at the time, but they do now.

The general idea of the tablets was a terrible yet beautiful history. It spoke of a war from beyond the earliest edge of human time where man and dragon tore across the land, setting the ground itself ablaze. Humanity, somehow, won against the dragons and their leader Alduin. Life continued on, and the Voice's power was taken for granted for centuries. Eventually, Dragonborn – or Dovahkiin – came and went through the eras and the warrior Jurgen Windcaller formed the Greybeards to guide Skyrim and the Dragonborn in the Way of the Voice.

"Hello?" I asked the dark castle as I crept in. I shoved the heavy stone door open and looked around. "Hello!?"

"I do not like this, My Thane," Lydia said from behind me. I turned to look at the brunette Nord, who stood with her weapons ready to defend my life against countless threats on my life. "We should leave."

"Oh, live a little, Lydia," I joked. I grinned. "Balgruuf said it's safe here."

"_Dovahkiin_," a Voice whispered. I felt power creep up my spine, and I turned to the source of the noise. An old man with a huge gray beard stared at me with a twinkle in his eye. "Dragonborn."

I gulped down my fear. I took a short breath, then spoke to the man. "Greetings, Master Greybeard – I am answering your summons."

"Indeed. I am Master Arngeir, I speak for the other Greybeards," the old man said. A twinkle ran through his eyes.

"Why?" I asked. "Can't they talk for themselves?"

Arngeir chuckled softly. "Yes and no. Their Voices have become... powerful, over the years. There are many dangers associated with their Thu'um. Enough of this, though." Arngeir waved his hand dismissively, then stood straight and stared into my eyes. "Let us taste of your Voice to see if you are truly Dragonborn."

"Like... how?" I asked.

The old man laughed at my bewildered expression. From the corners of my vision, I could see his many counterparts walking silently into the room. "Shout for us, the Voice of the Dragons. We heard it from across Skyrim."

"You mean... _**FUS -**_" Green energy fled from my lungs, colliding with the old man's frame.

ArngeirThe old man staggered backwards with a surprised look on his face. "Oh, gods. I'm sorry, I didn't know that would -"

Arngeir merely laughed. "You are Dragonborn indeed!" he said between laughs. "Good. There is much we must teach you."

"I am eager to learn," I told the Greybeard. He nodded graciously.

"Good. You have already taken your first steps towards mastery of the Voice alone –" the man began.

"W-what is the Voice, if I may ask?" I interjected.

"Ah, our Legends say that the Dragon-blood warriors often ask that question," he replied. "Do not feel embarrassed. The Voice is the language of the Dragons themselves, a primal speech that affects change upon the physical world. Because of this, there is little difference between a debate and a fight amongst Dragonkind – to argue is to kill."

"So... You want me to talk to Dragons?" I joked incredulously.

"We want nothing of you, Dragonborn. In fact, our duty is to you," the man said. He sighed. "The Voice, for mortals, is a tool granted by the Divines themselves. We must live in a way befitting such a tool – peacefully."

"But I can't do that – I need to help the people. Maybe this isn't the best id-"

"Ah, but the Dragon blood is also a gift," Arngeir noted. "One destined for power and legend – to deny one gift for another would be wrong, correct?"

I considered what he said silently. "The Dragonborn is often the exception to the rule," Arngeir noted.

I nodded. "Then teach me," I implored.

"Of course, _Dovahkiin_," the man stated. The other Greybeards gathered around Arngeir, and I noticed that their group's name fit them all well – each was a man advanced in age with a long, gray beard dangling from his chin. "You already know the first word of the Unrelenting Force shout, so we will teach you the next."

"Ro," one of the men whispered at the ground. I turned to where the man stared at the stone, and watched with awe as carvings of the Dragon Language burned through the ground. The sound of _Ro_ ran through my soul, echoing through even the darkest regions of my soul.

"Now, Master Einhart will grant you his understanding of Ro," Arngeir explained as the meaning of Ro – Balance – echoed through my mind just behind the word itself. I saw that Fus and Ro were intrinsically linked, Force and Balance. A measured, concentrated effect that could effect great change upon the world. I saw one of the old men bowing to me – Einhart.

"That was... odd," I mumbled.

"Now demonstrate your power for us, Dragonborn. Hit the targets as they appear."

"Wha-" I began. I was cut off by more of the Dragon Language echoing through the room. Ghostly copies of the Greybeards appeared around me and ran to attack. "What are you doing?"

"Thane!" Lydia shouted, worried. I heard her blade draw from its sheath and she ran to my side. Her blade flew through the body of one of the copies, but did nothing. Slash after slash passed harmlessly through the etherial fake, the blue body of the ghost-like creature merely phasing through the steel. The copy, angered, lashed out at Lydia with a kick. My Housecarl fell backwards from the supernatural force of the kick and was out of the fight.

"So no swords, then," I grumbled. I stared at the four Pseudo-Greybeards advancing towards me and gritted my teeth. "Magicka probably won't work either... If they want a shout... _FUS...RO!_"

The air in the room exploded away from me, and the four Greybeard copies disappeared. "Incredible..." Arngeir said as the echoes of my Voice traveled through the stone monastery. I stared down at the man who seemed, suddenly, so fragile and weak.

"Don't do that again," I threatened. I jabbed my finger at Arngeir angrily, then went over to help the now-awake Lydia to her feet.

"O-of course," Arngeir said with a bow of his head. He stood up suddenly and shifted on his feet. "Dragonborn... there is one more thing you must do..."

I sighed. There _always_ was. "Well?"

"You must travel far to obtain a mystical object of great import to our order. It is a task that only you – only the _Dovahkiin_ can complete. This will be the final step in our proclaiming you Ysmir, Dragon of the North.. You will travel far and wide, hunting Draugr and evil mages. You may even die by their hand. Survival however, will grant you great power and honor. The Dragonborn has always taken this item from whence it is hidden, and brought it back to the Greybeards."

I was excited. It sounded like an incredibly powerful weapon. A scroll or sword or something that would help me in my travels. Something... amazing. "Go and find the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller in Ustengrav." My jaw almost fell. A horn. They wanted a horn? Don't know why I expected something dangerous and powerful from the pacifist monks.

Still, I forced a courteous smile. "Of course, Master Arngeir. We'll be back soon."


	9. Horn of Jurgen Windcaller:Pyyrhic Defeat

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I yawned as I shrugged my pack onto my shoulder. "How far is Solitude, now?" I asked Lydia, who was staring intently at the map in her hands. She rolled the parchment adorned with a painting of Skyrim, and returned it to her pack. "We need to get to Tullius before midday if we want to head out to Ustengrav before nightfall."

Lydia looked up at the morning sky, then returned her attention to me. "We'll get to Solitude long before midday, Thane," she explained. She stretched her arms to the sky and cracked her neck. "Perhaps we could rent rooms at the local tavern? Sleeping on the floor is -"

"I know," I cut in. I looked up at the sky. "We need to get moving. Come on." I trudged onward, knowing Lydia would be close behind. We walked, occasionally joking and laughing together. Lydia had become, over the previous days, a good friend.

And a teacher. "I'm telling you, if you just slightly loosen the armor you're wearing, it will fit better. You're wheezing with every step," she said as we walked. I chuckled lightly and did as she said. My hands slid across my Dwemer armor and loosened the fasteners binding it to my body. Air rushed deeper into my lungs with every breath, and the weight of the metal seemed less upon my shoulders. Lydia must have seen the change in my step, because she laughed next to me. "Told you."

"Thanks," I said with a nod. I took a deep breath and we continued walking, each keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble. Eventually we neared the gates of Solitude.

"Big doors... think they're compensating for anything?" I joked.

"Thane," Lydia rebuked. I grinned sheepishly and she shook her head. She was very... serious. _Very_ serious. She shook her head again, and we waited for the doors to open like that.

The first thing I noticed upon entering Solitude was that it was, well, huge. Even compared to Whiterun the city was a giant, with shops and homes as far as the eye could see. It almost seemed as if everyone was gathered near the gate; I followed the crowd's collective gaze to see what they were watching and felt my breath catch. "An execution?" I hissed to Lydia, who was watching the scene with contained interest. Whispers and jeers ran through the crowd, directed at the man in prisoner's rags on the chopping block. "What's going on here?"

As if he heard me, the guard on the stage – a tall, raven haired Nord in red city-guard uniform – began to shout the crimes of the man. "Roggvir. You helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape this city after he murdered High King Torygg. By opening that gate for Ulfric you betrayed the people of Solitude," he shouted while reading from a written announcement.

"Traitor!" one of the crowd screamed.

"He doesn't deserve to speak!" another shouted.

Finally, the man about to die attempted to defend himself. "There was no murder!" he argued. "Ulfric challenged Torygg. He beat the High King in fair combat!"

"Liar!" a woman screamed angrily. A rotten vegetable flew through the air and collided with the man.

"Hey!" I shouted. No one turned to listen. "Hey don't throw things at him!"

That got everyone's attention. "Do you sympathize with this rebel!?" one of the men in the crowd shouted. A shudder ran through the air, and the stances of all present seemed to become incredibly hostile. Even the guard who gazed at me from the executioner's stage held fire in his eyes.

"Thane..." Lydia hissed cautiously. Her hand was lightly placed on the hilt of her saber, ready to defend me at a moment's notice.

"He's going to die – let it be with some Nord dignity," I said in a firm voice. The crowd remained as it was, ready to tear me apart.

Finally, a voice came to my defense. "He's right," the captain shouted. The crowd turned incredulously to the raven-haired man, who nodded. "A Nord death is his right."

The prisoner – Roggvir – stared at me with a combination of thanks and confusion in his eyes. I suppose that he wondered in his final moments, as his head was placed on the chopping block, why an Imperial-blood outsider would stand up for him. Would defend his dignity despite being a traitor. As the headsmen's ax rushed downward, Roggvir's last words were "On this day... I go to Sovngarde."

Then he was no more. The crowd dispersed, and Roggvir's body was taken away for burial by the priest of Arkay. "That was a poor decision, Thane," Lydia stated. I turned to her to listen to the further chastising. "You do not understand our ways."

"Perhaps he knows them better than most of us even do," another voice said. Lydia and I both turned to see a woman standing, sad and defeated, near us. "Hello, I'm Greta. Rogg – Roggvir's sister."

I breathed in sharply. "I'm – I'm sorry you had to see that."

The woman nodded sadly. "Aye... Thank you for standing up for him. I suppose that, like Roggvir, you're a Nord at heart. It's hard for many of the people here to understand. I think Aldis understands. I don't think I could have stayed here if anyone else had..." She stopped for a moment, the ghost of her memories running through her eyes."I... I think I need to stop talking now..."

I nodded. "If you ever need any help when I'm around, just ask," I told her. Greta smiled gratefully and nodded, then walked away wordlessly.

"That was more than many would offer, Thane," Lydia noted. I turned to her quizzically. "I believe you helped her as only a good man could."

My eyes hardened and I turned away from Lydia. We'd gone over this before. "I can tell you from experience, Lydia, I'm not a good man."

"Perhaps that isn't yours to judge," came a voice with an accent of a Nord who spent much time in the presence of Imperials. A woman in full Imperial regalia walked into my field of vision next to Lydia. Her hair was dirty blonde, and she was almost as tall as me. Her blue eyes carried the harshness of reality painfully and the world seemed to rest on her shoulders. "Do you mind if we talk alone."

I looked over at Lydia. "Go get us some food at the tavern – I'll be right in," I said. My housecarl looked over at the commanding woman worriedly, then back to me. I nodded at her and she walked away respectfully.

I looked over at the Imperial armored woman again. "That wasn't a request."

"That wasn't a question," she noted back. She looked up at the clear, blue sky. "Why did you stand up for Roggvir?"

I shrugged in response. "He did what he thought was right – he may have been a traitor, but if more people acted like him the Dominion would never have existed."

"A good view," the woman said as she returned her gaze to mine. Whether her words were in response to what I had said, or the clarity of sky, I am still somewhat unsure. "Legate Rikke." She held her hand outstretched.

I grasped it. "Lucius," I said. I noticed a chain of gold running down her armor's shoulder. "I take it you work with General Tullius."

She looked down at her shoulder and let go of my hand. "Good eye," she said. She crossed her arms. "I'm his second – I handle special recruitment cases and head up the more localized operations."

"Recruiting?" I asked with a slight chuckle. "What a coincidence – I came to join."

She considered me quietly. "I'm going to give you a test."

A little annoyed, I insisted, "I can handle myself."

"I don't doubt it. But still... a test," Legate Rikke said. She uncrossed and recrossed her arms with the positions of her arms reversed. She stared at me, waiting for me to respond.

"I – fine. What kind of test?"

The Legate smiled somewhat sardonically. "The kind that evaluates your usefulness during... duress. I'm sending you to clear out Fort Hraagstad. If you survive, you'll pass. If you die, then I'll have no further use for your corpse."

"That was... indelicately put," I noted.

"You want to be a soldier – it's an indelicate job," she responded sternly. I laughed boisterously in agreement, and her eyes softened. "Come up to Castle Dour when you're finished; General Tullius will want to meet you and administer the Imperial Oath."

I saluted. "Ma'am." This elicited a soft smile from the woman. She saluted back, and walked away. My stomach grumbled angrily. "Fine – I'll get some food." I walked into the Winking Skeever to meet with Lydia so we could eat and head out to Ustengrav.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Hours later, Lydia and I crept through the dank deeps of Ustengrav Barrow. My saber weakly collided with magically reanimated skeletons that guarded the gate into the next region of the barrow; the exertion of taking the Word from its wall was still relatively new to me and took a great deal of energy I was not ready for. Still, however, the skeleton fell apart at the slightest touch of my enchanted sword. I turned to attack one of the undead behind me, but found I was too late – the creature's chattering teeth echoed a death knell as its great-sword rushed towards me and my doom. Lydia was barely able to come to my aid in time.

My housecarl's shield caught the edge of the blade as it rushed towards me, and her other arm shoved me out of the way. She then twisted her sword into a backhand stance and lashed out with a swinging arm at the skeletal undead. The bones chattered their last and crumbled to the ground, dead once more. Lydia swung her sword around again and decapitated another incoming skeleton – the last one. "You need to be more careful, Thane," she chastised me. I coughed in response, and gratefully accepted her outstretched hand. "The way the Walls affect you... are you sure they are safe?"

I sighed. "They're powerful," I responded as I sheathed my blade and walked down to a trio of standing stones. "That power is virtually unknown – and thus useful against those who would threaten me. The Thalmor especially, even with their knowledge of arcane and powerful Magicks."

Lydia shook her head, but remained quiet. She knew of my fervent belief that the fallout of the Civil War would be a war for continental supremacy between the Dominion and the Empire. "Returning Skyrim to Imperial hands would only serve to strengthen the Empire for what is coming," I stated. Lydia shrugged and made a non-committal noise.

We neared the ceremonial stones in the center of the room, which seemed to be the key to opening a trio of gates at the end of the room. As I had learned shortly before our battle with the skeletons, each stone corresponded with the opening of one – and only one – gate. Each stone was activated for a few moments by interaction with a human – or, rather, me. Lydia's presence did little to awaken the Magick burned into the stones that caused them to glow and the metal gates to fly open in succession. I walked from the first stone to the last, watching each gate open for a few moments before slamming shut. I walked backwards, watching the gates again rise and fall. I ran forward, watching as, for a brief moment, the three gates were opened in unison. Before I could reach the first gate, even, the way closed to me. I walked back to Lydia and considered my options.

I slid my pack off and held it out to Lydia. "Can you hold this for me? Just for a moment?" I implored.

Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed. Exasperatedly, she said, "I am sworn to carry your burdens."

I sighed as she took the pack from me. She was... snarky, at times. I turned around and positioned myself in the center of a straight path to the gates. Then I took off running, hoping the other Word that the Greybeards had taught me would help me solve the puzzle.

Gate one opened as I ran. Then two. Three. As I passed the third stone, I breathed in deeply. "Wuld!" I shouted, and the ground fell away beneath my feet. My legs stopped moving as an unseen force propelled me forwards, beneath the shutting gate. The air rushed past my face as I flew forward, until I came to a sudden, abrupt stop. I landed on the ground without any momentum just past the first gate. The ground beneath me clicked and I looked down to see the ground was a single button. The gates all flew up and Lydia walked over to me.

"Do you want me to congratulate you?" she asked as she tossed me my pack. "Get going. Neither Rikke nor the Greybeards will wait forever."

I sighed and walked further into the tomb. "Always so serious, Lydia," I remarked. I threw my pack over my shoulders and drew my sword. I walked forward and Lydia followed close behind, weapons ready. Left, right, left, right. The monotony of walking was comfortable, and something I had taken comfort in for years. There was more purpose in it than running, yet also deliberation. It was easy to lose one's self in the action, which was why I barely stopped myself from walking into a wall of fire as the ground clicked again. I lifted my foot from the tile, and the fire disappeared.

"For wanting the Dragonborn to get in here, the Greybeards left a lot of traps to keep you out," Lydia remarked as we stared at the fire trap.

I nodded. "Aye," I said. I looked around and saw a ledge of stone crumbled from the cavern ceiling not far away. It covered a series of tiles and led to the next area of trap-less ground. I sheathed my sword then jumped carefully onto the stone and motioned for Lydia to follow. We carefully walked across the thin bridge, struggling to keep our balance in our heavy armor. We did, however, make it to the other end of the room and continued on.

We came across a group of spiders near the end of the room, but I made quick work of the arthropods. I wiped the monster's bodily fluids off of my sword and sheathed the blade only a few seconds after it had been unleashed. "This is getting easier," I remarked as I stared at the three spiders. Each was quite large, more so than any found during my escape from Helgen. After that, Lydia and I continued onward.

We soon entered a vast room with a single, thin stone pathway that rested between two man-made bodies of water. I took a few cautious steps into the room, and nearly jumped as massive draconic stone carvings erupted from the water gracefully. The water drenched Lydia and I as we walked across the pathway. As we reached the end, I grunted in disgust. "We're going to have to check our armor for rust now," I grumbled. I then returned my attention to taking the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller which sat in an outstretched carving of a hand atop an altar.

Or at least it should have. In its place was a simple note.

"Dragonborn-

I need to speak to you. Urgently.

Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.

-A friend"

"Ugh, by the Nine. More distractions," I groaned. I pocketed the note and motioned for Lydia to follow me to the back of the room, where I felt a secondary exit awaited.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I sat in a corner of the Riverwood tavern, quietly eating the meal I had ordered. It was the standard, disgusting human fare of cabbage and something else barely edible. I turned my knife over in between my fingers with a dark cloud hanging over my head. Something about Lucius, and the way he fought, was... familiar. He fought with a purposeful sloppiness that disguised his original training, and thus made it hard to completely identify. There were elements of it that echoed... well, at the time I had no clue. All I could think was that the man's use of sword and magicka simultaneously was rooted in the skills of the battlemages of both the Dominion and the Imperial province.

I shook my head. I needed to do something to distract myself. I glanced around for a good mark, and saw an old, expensive looking horn sticking out of a human's belt. I grinned to myself and nearly inhaled the rest of my mead and food. I stood quickly up and stumbled towards the woman who had the horn. I collided with her, my hand artfully taking the horn and hiding it in my pack before she could even see. "Hey, watch it!" she shouted, turning to face me.

"Sorry," I slurred. But then I saw her face and froze in surprise. "I -" My drunken mask was gone. "I have to go." I turned and moved as quickly as I could without rousing suspicion. I turned towards Whiterun as I exited the inn in the dead of night. As soon as I was outside of the town's limits, I began to sprint away.

"A Blade!" I hissed to myself as I ran. It was an issue – she could blow my cover, if she recognized me as easily as I recognized her. If she recognized me and revealed my allegiances in Skyrim, she could irreparably damage my standing with the Stormcloak leadership.

I stopped eventually and rested behind a tree, catching my breath after sprinting away for two miles. The air began to whistle, and I froze for a split second as an arrow collided with the tree above me. I drew my swords as quickly as I could and trained my superior Mer sight into the darkness. My blades danced in the air, deflecting arrow after arrow. Finally, no more came. The noise of a blade being unsheathed rang clear through the air. "Is that the best you can do... Delphine?" I asked mockingly.

The woman growled and stepped into my field of vision. She was a blonde Breton, taller than most of her kind. She wore worn leather armor covered with nicks and gashes, the defense of a survivor who had dodged her dogged hunters for decades. She stood with her Akaviri Katana gripped tightly in her right hand and her left shoulder pointed at me. "You have no idea what I can do, Thalmor."

"Oh, I think I do," I replied. I placed myself into a defensive position and steeled myself for the coming battle.

"I didn't forget our duel at Cloud Ruler Temple," Delphine replied cooly. She brought her sword into a two handed grip and stared at me. "But you haven't seen me fight in almost twenty six years."

I laughed behind my swords. "Then show me what you are capable of... as you die." I continued to chuckle sardonically, which elicited an angry response from the Blade. She rushed towards me, her blade swinging furiously towards my head. I deflected the blow easily with one of my blades and thrusted the other towards her midsection. She sidestepped the blow gracefully and whipped her katana off of my elven sword and towards my neck. I ducked, narrowly, beneath the blow and rolled to the side.

Delphine was on me even as I returned to my feet. Her single blade launched attack after furious attack, keeping me on my toes and on the defensive. I looked desperately for a hole in her defense as the blows came crashing down harder and harder. Eventually, I saw one.

I launched my entire body forward beneath her next strike so that my shoulder struck Delphine's midsection. The Blade went with the momentum of the strike and flipped easily to her feet midair. She rushed forward again and our blades became locked, a fortuitous position for a warrior with two blades. Or so I thought. Delphine lashed out with her foot and I stumbled backwards. Her katana twirled around the blade gripped in my left hand, and the saber flew through the air and into her hand. She launched another barrage of attacks, now doubly difficult to defend against. It was all I could do to even survive against her.

"I will kill you, Thalmor," the woman spat at me. I didn't respond, instead deflecting another blow with enough force to cause the woman's two-bladed strike to rebound. I turned on my heel and ran off as quickly as I could. I heard no footsteps behind me. The meaning was clear – I was defeated. I was no threat to the Blade, who could expose me and kill me at her leisure. I sheathed my remaining sword and continued running in terror towards Whiterun.


	10. Horn of Jurgen Windcaller:Lucius Atmoran

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Two bandits escorted me into the main room of Fort Hraagstad, where their leader stood over a small pile of gold. Their leader was a Redguard woman wearing mismatched armor ranging from fur to steel plate. She had twin daggers strapped to her hips, orcish and elven, that were rusted over with old blood. Over her shoulder appeared to be a cape that seemed disturbingly close in appearance to Falmer skin. "Heh – I, uh, like the cape," I told her.

The woman looked over her shoulder with an apathetic glare. "What do you want?"

I grinned. The bandits who had escorted me in were under the power of my Imperial Magick, deeply believing themselves to be my allies. "I'm here to find out what you want."

The Redguard woman's eyebrows raised slightly. "What does that mean?" she asked me.

Lydia said this was a stupid idea. In all honesty, she was probably right. But after everything I'd gone through in my life, I'd prefer to talk the bandits out of the fort. "What can I do for you so you'll leave the fort?" I asked, forcing some fake optimism into my voice. Realistically, she would laugh and tell her men to beat me to death.

"Ha! HA HA!" the woman shouted, confirming my gut feeling. She laughed for a few more moments, then sighed and looked at me. "Oh, that was funny. You two – kill him." She turned back to her map.

I sighed. "Wrong decision," I stated. I drew my blade as the Magick cast on her men began to wear off. Two quick slashes of my blade brought the two down and attracted the Redguard's attention. She pulled her daggers off and a flash of worry crossed her face. "You should have just made a deal." Magick coursed into my hand, and a spike of ice shot towards the woman. She jumped out of its path, narrowly, and rolled to her feet. I launched another spike of ice and ran to the spot where she would dodge to. My saber clashed with her twin daggers in a shower of sparks, and she struggled to prevent my blade, bearing my full weight, from slipping into her skull.

I furrowed my brow and stared down at her. "I didn't want it to turn out this way," I said simply. I gathered more Magicka in my left hand, and the third ice spike ran through her skull. The blood and brain splashed across my armor. I didn't react at all, no nausea or disgust. That not feeling, that's what sent a wave of nausea coursing through my body. I stepped back from the woman's body, which was held up partway by a chair in the room. I pulled the hood on my head down and felt bile rise from my gut. I retched violently for a few moments and the smells of blood and bile mixed to permeate the room with a sickening metallic, fruity aroma. I was suddenly very glad I had traded in my helmet for an adept mage's hood I'd found on the Ustengrav necromancers; the bile had come out faster than I could have unfastened the helmet and torn it from my head.

Images from my past rushed through my head, fear and pain accompanying them. I stood in a dark room holding an elven dagger. A man knelt on the ground in front of me, a black sack of cloth covering his head and muffling his voice. "What are you waiting for, dog? Kill him!"

I flinched as the voice came back to me. Commanding, cruel. It was the voice that dominated my nightmares, even years after it had been silenced. I whimpered in my memory. "Kill him!" I had made no movement to do so. The voice snarled disgustedly and an ice spike flew through the air next to my head. I felt the chill run down my spine from the Magickal projectile as it flew by me. The spear tip had collided with the head of the prisoner, and brain and blood had erupted around the room. It had bathed me – a child at the time – in gore. The vision left me and I was as terrified as when the memory had been made.

I fell to my knees next to the body of the bandit chieftain and felt the stinging of salty tears rushing down my face. Why, of all the battles I had gone through recently, had this one affected me so? The easy answer was the Thalmor I kept running into; Thera had a decidedly "Elven Superiority" tone to her dealings with me. I knew it would be difficult for others to notice, very few can see through a Thalmor spy's training. Usually, the people that were able to had spent an inordinate amount of time around the bastards. Yours truly definitely fit that description.

I finally pulled myself back up to my feet a few moments later, though the nausea and pain still echoed from my gut up into my brain. "Kill him!" the voice ran in my mind again, clearer, perhaps, than the day I had heard it. I felt my knees go weak again, but kept my head and walked out of the room to deal with the rest of the bandits. It wouldn't be a _fun_ job, or even a pleasant one, but it was a job.

Still, why did all my jobs have to do with going somewhere and killing everything there?

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I hauled my tired form into the sparse, stone monastery atop the Throat of the World mountain. Damn humans think it's the birthplace of Man – place should be destroyed for leading filth like that into the world. The building was very... Mannish, with spartan decoration centered around the idea of making the castle seem even more spacious and uselessly large than its size would truly allow. "Who is there?" an old _human_ voice asked from elsewhere. The voice echoed through the castle, disguising the location from whence it originated. An elderly Nord man in gray, ragged robes walked into the main room and caught sight of me. "How can I help you?"

I bit my lip and made myself appear nervous. "I, uh, I heard the shout."

"For the Dragonborn, yes. It was mean to call for the Dragonborn across the entire land," the man explained. "And the Dragonborn answered our summons."

"You – you weren't summoning me?" I asked. The man's head cocked to the side. "Your summons it... it called to me. _Dovahkiin_... the noise made my feet want to run to this mountain. I could barely prevent myself from abandoning my other projects."

The old man laughed. "We sensed only one voice awoken. If you _are_ Dragonborn, you are not ready_," _he said.

"Not ready?" I growled. I struggled to keep my hand from my blade.

"We await the test of the _Dovahkiin_. If he returns with the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller he will..."

The name of the horn rattled in my head for a moment. Without even thinking, my hand glided back to my pouch and grabbed the horn I had stolen from Delphine. "I – do you mean this?" I asked without thinking.

The old man's eyes widened, nearly out of his head. He suddenly became very interested in me. He walked towards me and raised one arm, then his hand ran through the air around me before pulling back. His next words came out with the sound of thunder, despite only being whispered: "Rii Sil Genun!" I felt my veins shiver, and something begin to rise to the surface of my skin. I thought I heard a dragon roar as the world began to take the tint of fire. Then, just like that, all was silent and gray once more.

The old man stared at me with interest and a glint of knowledge running through his eye. "A rare gift indeed," he muttered. His eyes glazed over for a moment as if he was lost in memory. "Jul and Fahiil..."

"What?" I asked, somehow both confused and enlightened by the foreign words he had said. "What's this about a Man and a Mer?"

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Two Dovahkiin revealed in the same Age... A Gift from the Divines unheard of in the annals of the Voice," he whispered. My superior elven hearing, of course, picked it up. "Please, come further. We have much to discuss, Dovahkiin."

_**Jul**_

**Arngeir**

Another _Dovahkiin_. A Second warrior of the Dragon-blood. Arngeir knew that such a thing was virtually unheard of, two appearing in the same land – especially simultaneously – was beyond rare or impossible. He doubted that such an occurrence would happen again for many Eras, if at all.

The Man was powerful, but there was a darkness in his soul. He thirsted for battle, claiming he wished to protect others. From what the elf – Thera – had said of the man, his desire to protect others was a farce, a facade. He was a coward who was ready to risk the lives of others if it suited him. Only the lure of power could force Lucius into action, even if the risks of such actions were small.

Thera, on the other hand, seemed genuinely altruistic. Despite her Aldmeri heritage, she seemed to honestly desire the best for others, even humans and beastfolk. She had been front and center to fight against the Dragon, even leading it away from soldiers and townsfolk to fight against it. At the last moment, her victory and reward had been stolen away by Lucius. She seemed quite genuine, and Arngeir had no reason to distrust her.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The atmosphere in Castle Dour was, well... Dour. Imperial soldiers grimly and dutifully ran in and out of the main room where Legate Rikke and General Tullius conferred – okay, _argued_ – just loud enough for the soldiers to know that wasting their time would be viewed quite unfavorably. "Wait out here, please," I said to Lydia. I glanced over my shoulder and she nodded. I took a breath and turned away from my friend.

When I marched into the main room, Rikke stopped what she was saying to the General. She raised a hand. "Sir, this is the one I was telling you about earlier," she said. The General turned to me. He was an older man, probably in his mid sixties. His hair was gray and white, thinning a bit at the top. Despite his age, he wore his heavy, Imperial General's armor with a commanding strength that shined clearly in his eyes as well. "The scouts have already reported back that he cleared the Fort – alone."

The General looked me up and down for a moment. "He doesn't seem that impressive," he said finally. He frowned. "Though, I'm guessing you saw something I have yet to see."

"Indeed, Sir," Legate Rikke said.

The General returned his attention to me. "So you want to join the Legion, eh..? Why?"

"Why?" I echoed. I chuckled. "Can I speak... candidly, General?"

"I would not have asked the question if I had not desired honesty," the General replied.

I nodded. "Right." I took a deep breath. "The Empire is... important to me. I lived in southern Cyrodiil, before the Imperial reclamation. I've also visited Morrowind, Valenwood, Blackmarsh... Places without the Empire are in shambles, or controlled by the Dominion." I shifted uncomfortably under the General's steely, unyielding sight. "And the Empire itself is... fractured. It wouldn't survive without Skyrim."

"You seem very sure of that," Tullius said.

I shrugged. "It's entirely possible the Empire, as it is now, won't survive even with Skyrim. All I know is that the Empire is the only structure that has any hope of defending against the Dominion in the coming war."

Tullius narrowed his eyes and continued staring at me. I thought, for a moment, he would call for a Thalmor agent to take me in for my semi-seditious statements. Instead, the man asked, "Are you ready to take the Oath?" I nodded. "Good. Repeat after me. 'Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Titus Mede II...'"

"Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Titus Mede II..." I echoed.

"'And unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire.'" The General continued. I repeated the statement. "May those above judge me, and those below take me, if I fail in my duty. Long live the Emperor! Long live the Empire!"

The General nodded, then returned his attention to Rikke. "Tell me again, why I'm wasting men chasing after a fairy tale." I felt suddenly very invisible. I made a move to leave, but both Rikke and Tullius glared at me until I froze.

"If Ulfric gets his hand on that crown, it won't be a fairy tale. It'll be a problem," Rikke said after she and Tullius had returned their attention to one another.

"Don't you Nords put any stock in your own traditions?" Tullius grumbled. He sighed wearily. "I thought the Moot chose the king. We're backing Elisif. When the Moot meets, they'll do the sensible thing."

Rikke shook her head. "Sir, not everyone's agreed to the Moot. You've been here long enough to know that Nords aren't always sensible. We follow our hearts."

Tullius scoffed, then said, "So what - Ulfric gets this crown and then suddenly he's High King?"

"No, it's not as simple as that, but the Jagged Crown would be a potent symbol for his cause to rally around. But, if we found it first..." Rikke left the rest out so that Tullius would see the wisdom of her position for himself.

"And we gave it to Elisif?"

Rikke nodded and said the few words that would completely legitimize her stance. "In the absence of the Moot, it would further legitimize her claim."

Tullius became suddenly pensive. "Perhaps... I'm entrusting you with what resources I can spare. But I'm warning you, if this turns out to be a waste of time and men..."

"It won't be a waste," Rikke assured.

Tullius sighed conciliatorily and gestured to me. "Make sure you take the Auxiliary here. You can send him back when you get there and find nothing but old bones and cobwebs."

"The Stonefist's no fool. He's found the Crown. But we'll get to it first," Rikke said. She turned to me. "Meet me at Korvanjund in four days time." She turned and left the room.

I made to follow her, but was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. "Just a moment, Auxiliary," Tullius said. He turned me around and stared at me.

"S-sir?"

"You were at Helgen," he said simply.

"I -" I furrowed my brow and shut my eyes. There was no point in denying it; he knew my face. "Yes."

"So why did you come here?" He asked me.

"Hadvar. He saved my life, and I his. He told me to come here to join – that he'd vouch for me," I said. "He's in Riverwood."

"Hm... I should send a courier there, tell Hadvar to meet up with Rikke at Korvanjund. He's a damn fine soldier, it's good to hear he's alive," Tullius replied.

"I have business in Riverwood," I interjected. "Sir, I could get Hadvar and we two could travel to Korvanjund."

"Hm... Fine. Fine. Just don't disappoint," Tullius said. I turned to leave once more. "You're right about the Dominion."

I looked over my shoulder. "I know." I left the room and walked over to Lydia.

"How did it go?" she asked me.

I nodded. "Fine. We're off to Riverwood – it's time to figure out just who took the horn."

_**Fahiil**_

**Elenwen**

"Lucius, Lucius..." the elf woman muttered to herself. She was pouring through hundreds of reports on who the man could be, yet none of them seemed to make any sense. There were dozens of different faces attributed to the generically Imperial name, but none had the skills necessary to scare Thera. Elenwen growled exasperatedly and shoved the last report into a bin at the edge of her desk.

"Ma'am," a soldier said as he walked in.

"What!?" Elenwen snapped. The soldier nearly jumped out of his armor at the scream, and he hastily threw a new report on Elenwen's desk before taking off down the hall. "Damn soldiers, interrupting me..."

Elenwen reached for the new report and froze. It was bound and emblazoned in bright red ink with the symbol of the Thalmor Assassination Ops, a branch of Thalmor and ex-Dark Brotherhood associates who had trained sleeper agent assassins. None of their operations existed, even informally. The branch itself was a mere rumor amongst even those as high ranking as Elenwen. The only reason that Elenwen even had prior knowledge of their existence was because she had run into one of their trainers – a traitor – during an old mission. The man had mentioned many of the names of their operational agents before being silenced.

Elenwen knew that since the Assassination Ops had taken an interest of her inquires into the history of Lucius that the man must be a high-ranked target of the group. One who was a great threat, or could become one, to the Aldmeri Dominion. If such was the case, then Elenwen knew that her life would soon become vastly more complicated and worrisome. And then there was the other possibility... one that was much more worriesome.

With a heavy, shaking hand, Elenwen unbound the book and lifted the report to her eyes. She froze and quickly became engrossed in the information she found herself reading. The report was long, almost a hundred handwritten pages. The Lucius described was definitely one who would terrify even the most skilled fighter, be they warrior or mage. The skills that he had seemed... impossible for a human. His prowess in all things Magickal was virtually unparalleled; he could learn powerful Magicks such that it seemed Magicka was what flowed through his veins instead of blood. His swordsmanship was exemplary as well, and – at his prime – the man could easily kill over fifty opponents alone. The dates on the file began fifteen years prior, and ended ten after that point. Lucius had been hiding from the interests of the Dominion for just over five years, a feat, to be sure. But what truly caught Elenwen's attention, over all those accomplishments, was the event at which the file ended.

Elenwen, so scared that her hands would no longer shake, placed the book down on her desk. "Gods..." she muttered as she gazed at the book. There was no portrait of the man included, but Elenwen was sure that this, _this _was the Lucius that had killed a dragon. Elenwen shivered and shut the book as quickly as she could. The man had a surname – a title he had gained from the final event in the file: Lucius _Atmoran_.


	11. A Blade in the Dark:The Jagged Crown

**AN: Sorry it's been so long. I had to deal with Finals in my first year at college and the trouble with settling in to life back at home. Also, if anyone has anything to say about how I'm doing, reviews are much appreciated. Thanks to all those who have followed or favorited this story: Happy Summer!**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I had just sent Hadvar ahead to Korvanjund when I turned towards the Sleeping Giant, Riverwood's local tavern and inn. I'd overheard a few people talking about the woman who ran it, a harsh, blonde Breton. She worked hard and worked her employees hard, as well. Despite that, she was widely known as a very fair woman. Delphine had arrived in the town only a few decades earlier, but the entire town treated her as if she'd always been there.

Lydia and I walked into Delphine's tavern and brushed the dust off of my armor. The bronze Dwemer alloy glinted in the candle light, and the entire room grew quiet as I walked in. For a moment, the people stared, then all shouted a greeting. "Dragonborn!" they shouted together. The local bard quickly broke into a soulful rendition of the_ "_Song of the Dragonborn" and the patrons began to sing drunkenly along.

I chuckled to myself and made my way over to Delphine. She had a grumpy look on her face as she swept the ground absently. "The floor do something to you?" I asked her as she continued to scowl at the ground.

Delphine looked up. "Oh, sorry. Just... lost in a problem," she explained. Her face became softer. "How can I help you?"

I coughed once. "Um... I'm here to rent the attic room?" I said. I pulled the customary ten gold from my pack and handed it to Delphine.

"Attic room, eh?" she asked, surprised. "Well, we don't have an attic room. But you can take the room over there, on the left."

"Um... that's fine, I suppose," I replied.

Delphine nodded. "I'll show you to your room," she explained.

"You already told me where it is, though," I pointed out. Delphine glared at me, and I immediately knew it was she who had stolen the horn. I silently acquiesced, and Delphine led me to the room.

"Lydia," I whispered before following Delphine, "keep watch from out here. I don't expect she'll attack me, but I doubt she'll talk if you're in there, too."

Lydia shook her head. "But, Thane -"

"No. Just... give me a few minutes, please," I asked. Lydia sighed before nodding. "Thank you." I turned and followed Delphine into the room.

"So," Delphine began as we entered the room. She shut the door behind me and crossed her arms. "You're the Dragonborn."

I laughed slightly. "Well, that's what I've been told," I replied. I knit my brow and became serious. "Why'd you take the horn?"

Delphine laughed in return, a harsh, cynical noise. "I knew that the Greybeards, the old fools, would send you there eventually. They've sent every Dragonborn on that same damned quest for centuries, who would think they'd treat someone as important as you any different?"

"Look, I bet you have problems. Really, I do. But I cannot get roped into yet another side quest here. I have enough on my plate worrying just about the Civil War and getting the Greybeards that horn. Can I please just have it?" I asked exasperatedly.

Delphine shook her head in disappointment. "You don't understand, dammit!" she growled. She looked up at me. "Come and listen to what I have to say – then you can have your horn."

I narrowed my eyes and stared into Delphine's stern, commanding eyes. "I'm not committing to helping with your quest yet," I said, already sure that I _would_ help. I can't help it – I help.

"I just need you to listen. Follow me," she said. She opened the door and walked out. She walked across the main hall and looked over at Lydia. "You wait here still."

Lydia charged over. Her weapons were not drawn, but the anger in her movements made it clear that Delphine had crossed a line. "I do not follow _your_ orders, woman. I follow the Thane of Whiterun, man of Dragon-blood!" she hissed.

I smiled. "Thanks, Lydia. I appreciate it," I said. I put a hand on her shoulder. "But it's okay. She has no plans to hurt me, or she would have already. Give us five minutes, and if I'm not out, charge in."

Lydia glared at Delphine, but this compromise seemed fine to both women. "Yes, my Thane," Lydia finally stated. She backed away from us, but kept her glare trained on Delphine. "I will wait here."

Delphine rolled her eyes and opened the door. I followed her into the room, and she walked over to the dresser. "Close the door," she commanded. I looked back and shrugged, doing as she said. A click sounded and I turned back to see the false back panel of the wardrobe fall to reveal another staircase. "Come on."

I followed the woman down the stairs and into what looked oddly like a war room. "Well, what army do you want me to kill?" I asked sarcastically.

The woman shook her head and settled near a map on the table. "You have no clue," she said. She sighed. "Okay. I left the note in order to safeguard against Thalmor trickery – it didn't help. One wound up here a day or two ago. I needed your attention, too."

"You've already covered that bit," I replied. I leaned against the table, sitting on it partially.

"I know. The dragons, you've had dealings with them?"

"If you call a stay of execution and then trying to kill me 'dealings,' yes."

"Well, dragons have been supposedly missing for years, right?" she asked. I nodded. "Wrong. Dragon's aren't coming back as if they've been in hiding. Dragons are coming back _to life_." Delphine stared at me, waiting for a response.

"Okay," I replied.

"You aren't going to question that?" she asked.

"Mannimarco has back to life many times – killed each time. Dragons are even... odder than an almost all-powerful necromancer. I have no clue what dragons can do, so sure. I'm not that surprised," I explained.

"Um... good," Delphine said. She looked unsure of where to go from there. "So... I've visited the crypts around Skyrim, and I know it's true; they're empty. Now, everyone says that you're the Dragonborn – is it true?"

"I think so," I replied.

"This is no time to play the reluctant hero," Delphine scolded. "Are you or not?"

I responded after a brief pause, "Yes. I'm Dragonborn."

Delphine sighed in relief. "Okay," she said. Then she looked up at me, her face stern again. "I'll need to see some proof."

"I can shout," I began.

"So can the Greybeards," Delphine responded. She pointed down at the map. "I want your help going to the next location. Which, according to the Dragonstone _you_ took from Bleak Falls, is Kynesgrove near Windhelm. I want you to kill the Dragon, something only a Dragonborn can truly do. Dragons a Dragonborn kills can't come back."

Delphine stood up straight. "So you've heard my pitch," she said. She reached to her belt. "Take the -" Her eyes widened and she grabbed at her belt. "Dammit! Thalmor bitch must have taken it!"

I sighed. "You don't have my horn," I groaned. "How can I expect to trust what you're saying if you can't deliver on your promises. I mean I'll help, but -"

Delphine wasn't hearing me. "Damnable half-Dunmer. I'll kill her next time I have the chance," she hissed.

"Half-Dunmer?" I asked, surprised. "I know her! Uses two swords and can convince anyone she's a 'pure maiden?'"

Delphine looked up at me in surprise. "You've met the whore?"

"Unfortunately," I sighed. I looked down at the map. "Well, I guess you can make it up to me. I'm already heading Northeast a bit to go to Korvanjund. You help me there, I'll help you with your dragon."

Delphine growled. "Fine," she said. She turned and walked over to a chest of weapons and armor. "Esbern would be so disappointed!"

She began to undress and pull out armor. "Whoa! Whoa, do you want me to l- should I leave? Can I leave first?" I asked, covering my eyes.

Delphine looked over her shoulder. "I'm already done," she stated simply. I uncovered my eyes and, indeed, she was armored. She was wearing simple leather armor with an Akaviri katana strapped to her side.

My eyes widened as I looked at the sword. "You're a Blade," I murmured.

Delphine looked at me in surprise. "Not many people still know about us," she said. She gestured up the stairs. "After you."

I nodded and walked up and through the false wardrobe, followed quickly by Delphine. I opened to door to the main hall. "Thane!" Lydia half-shouted. She rushed over. "You're okay!"

I smiled. "Of course I am!" I supplied. "Don't worry, she's... well, not nice. She's not out to kill me. We have... a mutual enemy."

"Who?" Lydia asked.

I frowned. "A Thalmor. She still hasn't left Whiterun, either... Hm..." I began to lose myself in thought.

"Thane?"

I looked up at Lydia, a plan formed. "Lydia, this Thalmor, she hasn't left the hold. She's been hanging around, far as I know, which probably means that she has something to do here. I don't know _what_, but I doubt it's good," I said. I huffed angrily. "Lydia, can you please head back to Whiterun city? I need eyes there to see if she comes back, and someone the Jarl trusts who can get him to act against her."

Lydia looked over my shoulder at the armored Delphine. "But, Thane, do you trust her?"

I looked over at the Breton. "Something tells me that I have to," I replied. I looked into Lydia's eyes. "Will you do this for me?"

Lydia bit her cheek. "I – fine. I'm not happy about it, though, Thane," she said. "I'll be back home if you need me." Lydia turned on her heel and marched out of the inn.

The Breton Blade walked up next to me, almost shoulder to shoulder. "You don't want her hurt fighting the Dragon, do you?" Delphine asked.

"We need to hurry to Korvanjund," came my only reply. Then I walked from the building, flanked by the Blade.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

The Greybeards were an interesting group of sub-Mer savages. They worshiped broken, _human_ versions of the divines. Where Kynareth sat, the humans saw _'Kyne, goddess of winds and ancestor of Man_._' _Honestly, their blind savagery could astound even me, at times. After teaching me the third word of a "shout," a magical ability that blah blah blah. I can throw people by screaming, that's all that's important. Well, after teaching me the third and final word of the "shout," their leader Arngeir began to explain the prize my "efforts" had secured. "Now, Dragonborn, it is time for you to receive our blessing, one given to your predecessors throughout the ages."

"Right. Can we hurry this up, then?" I asked, bored to death with the old men's continual prattling and mumbling about "the Way of the Voice" and my duty to follow it. "I have things I need to do."

Arngeir growled under his breath exasperatedly, but kept a collected smile plastered to his human face. "Of course, Dragonborn," he said as his fellows filed into the room. The four old men stood in a semi-circle. "Tell us when you are prepared, Dragonborn."

I nodded. "I'm ready to go," I responded tersely. I was done with those fools.

I was not entirely ready for the sheer force of what came next. "_Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau_," their voices screamed, shaking my very bones within my body. "_Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok."_

The incredible shaking tore through me, every word echoing into my soul and crushing my senses. I fell to one knee as the last words echoed through my body, and stayed kneeling in pain. My body shivered while the words ran through my spine once more and electricity seemed to jump from vertebrae to vertebrae. I staggered to my feet a moment later, a droplet of blood running from my nose and across my lips. I wiped the crimson stream from my face with my already blood-encrusted armor, and coughed lightly. "Dragonborn, you have withstood the power of our Voices," Arngeir said, slightly awed. "Your training is now complete."

I nodded. "Thanks," I gasped, still a little in pain. "What did you say?"

"Ah, yes. I sometimes forget that, despite your proficiency with the Voice, you do not understand it as we do," Arngeir laughed. "Let's see... this blessing is, ancient. It can be translated along the lines of 'Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worthy brow to sit our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North, hearken to it.'"

'_Dragon of the North?_' I thought to myself. The term definitely added to the idea that these human savages could trust me or view me as a compatriot. Finding that damn Blade may have been the best thing that could have happened to me. I smiled at Arngeir. "I will try my best to hearken to your blessing," I said with a bow.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I crept through the final rooms of Korvanjund, flanked by Delphine, Rikke, Hadvar, and a small contingent of Legionaires. "I still can't believe Galamar's damn men made it here before us," Hadvar grunted to me as he dragged his blade out of a Draugr's decaying corpse. "Oblivion, I can barely believe that the Jagged Crown isn't a legend!"

I nodded in his direction as I sheathed my blade. "Agreed, but thankfully we were able to discover the secrets of the tomb before the Stormcloaks," I replied. Delphine stood near me, casting dirty glares in my direction.

"What's her problem?" Hadvar asked with a gesture in her direction.

"She'd rather be hunting dragons," I deadpanned.

Hadvar laughed. "Sure, and I'm Talos reborn," he replied. "No one's that crazy!"

I laughed under my breath. "Auxialiary! Hurry up!" Rikke ordered. I nodded and walked away from Hadvar with a nod. "That was a good job with the Hall of Stories." Rikke crossed her arms and stared at Delphine behind me. "Can she be trusted?"

"It's a little late to ask that, isn't it, Ma'am?" I asked. Rikke glared, unamused, at me. "She can. The War isn't her main concern – only the Dragons. And she wants my help."

"So you _are_ Dragonborn," Rikke noted. "The stories coming out of Whiterun are true." I nodded in response. "Good, the Empire needs a Dragonborn on its side again." She turned away from me and sighed as she stared at the last door.

"This is the last room, Legate," I said, gesturing towards the door. "There's a word wall in there. Someone – perhaps even a one-time high king – is buried in there."

Rikke turned towards me. "You're sure?" she asked, surprised.

I nodded. I looked over my shoulder at Delphine, who was studying both me and what I said. "I'm sure," I said, turning back to Rikke.

"Then let's hurry," Rikke stated. She drew her sword and led us through the door, where three Draugr emanating powerful energy sat waiting. Atop one's head sat a crown of ebony and dragon tooth. The Jagged Crown.

"Careful," I hissed to the soldiers. "It's probably -"

"The crown!" a soldier shouted. He rushed forward to grab the crown from the corpse's head, probably with visions of glory and promotion running through his head. He grabbed onto the crown. "I've got -" His words were cut off by a sword that ran through his chest. The words were replaced by gurgling and blood running down his chest.

"Torald!" Rikke screamed. She rushed forward, followed by the other Legionnaires.

Delphine stood at my side. "This war is pointless. Both sides should worry about the Thalmor..."

"Agreed," I said as I drew my blade. "Nevertheless, you agreed to help me."

"Hm..." Delphine grunted. She drew her katana and rushed forwards with me. I joined Rikke attacking the Draugr wearing the Jagged Crown, and Delphine remained next to me. We slashed at the undead creature as one with the four or five Legionnaires nearby. The monster shrugged off our joint assault and growled in the dragon tongue.

A moment later, the creature slashed wide and its saber collided with our armor. We all flew back. I slid across my back, painfully, and struggled to my feet. Delphine had evaded the creature's attack, and continued attacking the creature with a skill that surpassed even my own. Her blade flew around the monster in calculated, powerful arcs that collided with the few unarmored spots on the Draugr's body. The creature roared in pain and annoyance and lashed out with its foot. Delphine flew across the room, her blade still buried in the body of the Draugr.

I rushed towards the Draugr and launched a blast of electrical Magicka at the Draugr. The blue light arced through the air, dancing in deadly and jagged turns, until it channeled down the length of the katana embedded in the Draugr's flesh. The undead creature hissed and smoked, its muscles suddenly stood on end and its huge blade flew from its hand and towards the wall. With this opening, I ran forward and put my full momentum behind my blade, the Dwemer metal slicing through the brittle bone and skin at the Draugr's neck. The headless creature fell to its back; the creauture's head – quickly followed by the Crown itself – landed beside me. Delphine walked up and tore her sword from the chest of the Draugr before turning to me. "If you always fight like that, I hope you're the Dragonborn," she told me.

"Auxiliary!" Rikke shouted. I turned and jogged over to the woman, who was sitting with a slight wound on her leg. "Take the crown back to the General, Auxiliary. We'll be right behind you."

Delphine snarled. "You promised you'd come to Kynesgrove with me," she hissed.

"And you promised you'd help me finish this," I retorted. She stared into my eyes with rage, then scoffed and turned away. She had given in to her honor. "Good. Let's hurry to Solitude."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Elenwen had been waiting for me outside of the Embassy when I reported in. Her face was plastered with worry and a subtle terror that ran through her every jittery, sharp movement. "Follow me," she commanded. Her voice was unusually shrill.

I nodded and followed the ambassador into her home. We traveled past the gossiping guards and through the courtyard. We entered Elenwen's study, and I was sufficiently worried about whatever it was she had to tell me, and how it would affect my mission. "What is wrong, Elenwen?" I finally asked when we stood alone in her office.

The woman across from me looked worriedly around the room, as if searching for spies. "Good. There are no common soldiers here..." she said, intriguing me. "Now, this Lucius... he was a slave."

"Of the Dominion?" I inquired.

"Of course!" Elenwen snapped. She crossed her robed arms. "Specifically of the Thalmor Assassination Operations division."

"Elenwen, don't tell me you believe in ghost stories," I chuckled.

"Shut up!" Elenwen growled, immediately cowing me. "The Assassination division is quite real, I assure you. This Lucius was a slave, raised to be a sleeper agent loyal only to the Dominion. He carried out numerous assassinations under supervision of Dark Brotherhood defectors and Thalmor Battlemages. The death of that vampire noble in Cyrodiil was this one."

I froze. I had heard about that, and had thought it was the work of Daedra summoners. Skingrad had been reduced to rubble, its citizens indiscriminately slaughtered in ways increasingly disturbing and inventive as one neared the center of the carnage. At the center were the ashes of the Duke of Skingrad, his servants hanging from the walls in stakes arranged in a single word: vampire. I felt my words catch in my throat. "Y-you're su-sure?" I asked. Elenwen nodded. "Oblivion..."

"He apparently broke away from his handlers five years ago, murdering all of the Altmer assigned to him. He became _Lucius_ _Atmoran_ overnight, and disappeared from our radar. Obviously, the Assassination division would like to have him back alive. However, they do understand that agents must defend themselves if threatened. They will not care if the human happens to end up... less than alive," Elenwen explained. "And thus a threat against the Dominion will have been eliminated." She quieted down and frowned. "Do not engage him unless you must."

"Understood," I agreed.

"Also," Elenwen interjected as I turned to leave. "It has come to our attention that the Empire has gained a significant amount of ground in the Civil War. They have retrieved an ancient token that legitimizes Elisif's claim to Skyrim and unification. This must not be allowed to continue – you must take your mission to the front lines of the war. Call in however many favors you need with those Nord brutes, but get it done."

"Of course, Elenwen," I said with a bow. She waved her hand, and I left. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that she was still shuddering. To my surprise, I was as well.

Lucius Atmoran. The name of a Daedra-spawned demon. The shiver continued running down my back as I left my journal of accomplishments and reports on the table leaving Elenwen's study. Suddenly, I stopped shivering. My new powers as Dragonborn emboldened me, for it put me on the same level as the former slave. With enough preparation and absorption of the Dragon tongue and its knowledge, this new successor of Ysgramor would fall.


	12. A Blade in the Dark: Rebirth of Dragons

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"We've been in Kynesgrove for days now," I told Delphine as we ate in the tavern. "We're wasting my gold and time with this. Nothing has happened here."

The woman frowned and crossed her arms. "Shut it. This is the next place that the dragons are going to attack. Believe me, it's coming," Delphine said. She scowled even deeper. "So don't think of running off in the middle of the night."

"Look, it's just that I'm expected back at Dour soon for my next orders," I explained. I sighed and put the chicken leg in my hand down. "I can't wait here for dragons forever, Delphine."

"They're coming!" she snapped. Her fist pounded against the table and the entirety of the town began to stare at us silently.

"Fine," I supplied. "But if they aren't here the day after tomorrow, I'll have to leave without you." I leaned back into my chair and sighed. "I'm sorry."

Delphine snarled and pounded her open palms against the table. She shoved herself upward to a standing position and glared at me with more fire than a dragon. "If you aren't going to take this seriously, maybe it's best you leave now," she hissed.

I shook my head and stood up as well. "Maybe I will leave. I'm done with your damn mood!" I shouted back. I pulled a few gold coins from my pocket and slammed them on the table. "Good luck killing dragons without a Dragonborn." I pulled my hood up and turned on my heel.

As I reached for the handle of the door, the entrance to the tavern flew open. Cold winds and snow flew into the warm inn with surprising speed. The pace of my heart began to quicken. "Dovah," I mumbled to myself.

In from the cold ran a woman. "There's a dragon attacking!" she screamed. The tavern, already quiet as an effect of Delphine's and my argument, remained deathly silent for a moment. Suddenly, screams broke out and the people rushed around me to run from their homes. I looked over at Delphine, who was trading a serious glance with me. I nodded, and the two of us ran from the building.

Delphine and I rushed together up Kynesgrove's main hill towards the dragon's burial mound. "I told you to believe me," Delphine growled as we approached the top of the hill.

"Shh!" I hissed. I pointed upward through the snow towards a dragon, one that felt terrifyingly different from the one I had defeated at Whiterun. This dragon was much larger, first off. Spikes arched from its body in directions that called to mind the most terrifying Daedric magicks I had studied. The dragon's pitch black scales seemed to be made of pure ebony, and glowed with the immense power of the dragon's soul within.

"_Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse!_ " the black dragon roared. The air before it shook with sheer power that ran down to collide with the burial mound. "_Slen Tiid Vo!_"

As the energy rushing from the large dragon hit the burial mound, the ground began to shake beneath our feet. Delphine and I each grabbed onto the rock nearby to remain steady. We watched in both horror and surprise as a single, bone dragon wing tore its way out of the ground. Orange energy swirled through the air, towards the wing. The bone, which was slowly becoming covered by flesh and scale, was quickly followed by another bone wing and a hollow dragon skull. "_Alduin, thuri!_" the skull said, pointed up towards the other dragon. The light dragged across the dragon skeleton as it pulled its grotesque, rattling form from the ground. More and more flesh and scale knitted itself from the fabric of reality to cover and protect the dragon that had been reborn. "_Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?_"

The flying dragon roared in grim delight before replying, "_Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir_ !" Then both dragons turned to the tiny, insignificant forms of Delphine and me. A feeling of disgust and rage – and, also, fear – rolled off of the dragons as they stared.

To us, the black dragon screamed, "_Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi._" The black dragon waited for a moment. I knew he was addressing me, but I could not respond. The dragon took cruel delight in that fact. "_You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah._"

"I'm Dov enough to kill you!" I shouted up at the dragon.

For a moment, the steady wingbeats of the monster stopped. It dipped downward, then quickly and elegantly reasserted its dominance over the force of gravity. For the briefest moment, it had seemed that my remark had scared the dragon that had brought one of its ilk back from the dead. The dragon roared with somewhat forced laughter, then turned to the dragon on the ground. "_Sahloknir, krii daar joorre._" The black dragon turned towards Delphine and me for a moment and growled. "Die mortals." Then, as if it had never been there, the dragon disappeared into the horizon.

The dragon that had tore its way from the barrow, however, was glaring directly at me. It roared and began to march towards Delphine and me, shouting fire from its gaping jaw as it went. I shoved Delphine out of the flame's path and lifted a ward. The magickal wall shattered as the fire collided, but still prevented the flames from burning our flesh. "This was hard enough with an army," I grunted to Delphine as I drew my blade. "Now you expect me to kill a dragon with just you?"

Delphine's katana slid from the scabbard at her side. "I expect you," she said sternly as she readied for battle, "to kill those by yourself." Then the woman rushed ahead to attack the dragon.

"Oblivion, she's nuts," I sighed. Then I rushed forward to aid her against the dragon.

The dragon that the two of us were attacking was much stronger than the one I had fought at Whiterun. This dragon breathed fire as I approached, a spell I ducked under. I expected to have a moments reprieve from the magicka, however I was hit head on with a blast of frozen air as I came up again. I stumbled backwards as the chill spread to my bones, barely activating a healing spell before frostbite set in. The dragon laughed at my efforts and taunted us mortals. "My lord Alduin requires your death! I am glad to oblige him!" He roared to the sky and lashed out at Delphine's form with his wing. The Blade rolled out of the limb's way and jammed her katana in between two scales.

The dragon roared and twirled around with a hop. Delphine's form was thrown away by the force of displaced air. "I am Sahloknir! Hear my voice and _**despair**_!" The dragon shouted. He turned his head to me again and gathered a breath of magicka in his throat. I raised a powerful ward in one hand and the powerful shout dissipated against the magick wall; I ran towards the dragon and slashed my blade against its heavy incoming teeth. Sparks flew as the dragon's head was forced out of its trajectory, exposing its neck to my ice spike spell. The ice shattered against the dragon's scales, but so too did one of the scales. The dragon's head quickly slashed back and the force of the hit caused my heavily armored frame to stumble backwards.

"Your voice is no match for mine, Dovahkiin," the dragon stated. "But you honor me with your ferocity!" The dragon breathed inward again to kill me with his ancient magicka. "YOL-TOOR-SHUL!"

"FEIM!" I screamed as the last syllable left the dragon's throat. I felt as if my spirit had left my body as the world around me took an orange tint. The fire rushed around me and through me harmlessly, my magickally charged form gliding effortlessly through the fire that would have burned away my flesh and left me a blackened husk. I rushed forward, towards the cracked scale that was falling off of the dragon's neck. The fire ended just as my shout wore off.

"And you honored me with yours," I told the dragon. I twirled my sword into a back hand grip and drove it into the exposed flesh of the dragon's neck with both hands. The dragon roared, the powerful force of breath rushing out of the sword sized hole in its neck and throwing me backwards once again. I rolled beneath the dragon's wing and looked up at the katana still embedded in its hide. "Even you deserve this: Talos guide you." I raised both hands, charged once more with magickal lightning – this really sounds like it was becoming my go to move – and unleashed the magicka into the blade. The dragon shrieked in pain as the electricity chained through the sword and cooked it from the inside out. The dragon's flesh melted and sizzled, the orange light once again flying through the air and into every pore of my body.

I stumbled to my feet, shoving the skeletal wing of the dragon off of me. I grabbed the katana from the dirt and my own sword from the neck bone of the dragon. I turned to see Delphine walking towards me, awe in her eyes. "Well, I guess you're going to want answers... Dragonborn," Delphine said. She dropped to one knee and bowed. "My lord."

"Um... please don't," I asked. I grabbed Delphine's shoulder and dragged her to her feet. "What are you doing?"

"You already know I'm a Blade," she said. She sighed. "One of the last, actually. Truth is, we were floundering _before_ the War."

"Why?"I I asked as I handed her her katana.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "The Blades, we're the... descendants, for lack of a better word, of the Akaviri invaders. They... they followed Reman Cyrodiil during the second Empire, fought for him because he was Dragon-blood," she explained. "So, because of them, the Blades follow the Dragonborn. Ever since Martin Septim died during the Oblivion Crisis, the Blades have been like a ship without a rudder, aimless... dying. We've searched for a Dragonborn – for _you_ – for over two hundred years."

"So no pressure, huh?" I asked with a groan.

Delphine laughed dryly. "Yeah..."

"So what do the dragons coming back have to do with me?"

Delphine shrugged. "I don't know. You can kill them, and that's all I care about at the moment," Delphine said. "But I do have a theory about who is behind the dragons coming back."

"The Thalmor?" I asked.

Delphine nodded. "They're the only ones I can think of with the power and desire to do it. It _cannot_ be a coincidence that Ulfric escaped due to the dragon. Think about it – Ulfric is captured, Skyrim is on its way to stability, and the Empire not far behind? Only the Thalmor and the Stormcloaks have any motive to help Ulfric escape... and only the Thalmor have the means."

"So do you have a plan?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Now that you mention it... I do," the woman said with a grin. "How do you feel about breaking into the Thalmor embassy?"

"That sounds like an amazing idea," I replied with a grin of my own.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"Not often an elf will walk right into Windhelm and demand an audience with the true High King of Skyrim," Galmar Stonefist remarked.

Ulfric laughed obnoxiously – or humanly, depending on your synonymous adjective of choice. "Aye, but an elf that wishes to pledge fealty to the Stormcloak cause? Such an event would be worthy of an epic!"

"Damn your inner poet," Galmar responded, shaking his head. "You would overlook anything if it made a better song to do so."

"Aye," Ulfric said, suddenly somber and subdued. "That I did. For that damned crown I let so many of our men die." Ulfric covered his eyes with one hand and a great shadow seemed to overtake the room.

"I pushed you into that," Galmar supplied, desperate to raise his lord's morale. I barely held in a snicker at the sight – the same Ulfric that had withstood years of torture was on the verge of breaking down just because of a few humans' lives. It was a sight that lifted my spirits.

"No. The choice laid with me," Ulfric said. "As does this one. This elf, this woman, helped save me from the dragon attack and the Empire at Helgen. She has shown me intense loyalty, and deserves such in kind."

Galmar growled, a noise reminiscent of the bear skin he wore draped across his shoulders and skull. "Fine," the Nord snapped. "But she goes through the test."

"I would expect nothing less," Ulfric said.

"I'm right here," I said, barely holding in a sneer. "Don't talk of me as if I am elsewhere."

"Agh, fine, elf. Do you want to do what we ask? Are you willing to do what we ask?" Galmar growled back at me. His teeth were bared in a grimace that reminded me once again of the bear across his shoulders.

"I would not have come here otherwise," I replied tersely.

Galmar nodded, his features softening. "Good, then," he said. "Good. The test you have to take is this – go far to the north. There is a standing stone, the Serpent Stone. There you will find a colony of Ice Wraiths. Your job is to kill those wraiths and bring their teeth back to Jarl Ulfric."

"That won't be a problem," I responded.

"Cocky, eh? I like that. But I'm still betting on you not coming back – only a true Nord could hope to do as we have asked," Galmar said.

"A true Nord at _heart_, Galmar," Ulfric interjected from his throne. "And that this woman may be."

"I'll be back soon," I said. I turned on my heel and marched from Ulfric's castle in Windhelm to kill a few measely Ice Wraiths."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Good job, Auxiliary," Tullius said as I handed him the crown.

"I hope it was worth it," I said, sullenly. "A lot of good men died for this."

"It's not for you to say if it was," Tullius snapped. His features softened. "But they will still be missed." He turned his attention to the map on the table. I was obviously being dismissed. Still, however, I remained where I was. Tullius sighed and turned his head to me. "Is there anything else, Auxiliary?"

"Sir, what if I told you that... someone... was breaking in to the secure backrooms of the Thalmor embassy?"

Tullius studied me for a moment. "I would have to tell you that such a person would have no backing from us."

"I agree," I said. "But what if this person could bring confidential information back with him... say directly to you?"

Tullius froze and turned his body away from the table. "What?" he asked, quietly. He looked around nervously, as if afraid a Thalmor agent would appear from the walls. He leaned towards me. "I would have to say to _you_... be careful. The Thalmor are trickier than one could imagine. But if you are dead set on going, Auxiliary Lucius, I would not refuse the aid to the Empire that such a break-in could achieve."

I nodded. "Of course, Sir," I said with a salute. I pulled a letter from my pack. "Could you have a courier send this to Whiterun? My Housecarl, Lydia, is there with the Jarl. She has to be worried about me, as I have not checked in with her recently."

"You care about this woman?" Tullius asked.

"She is a good friend," I replied.

Tullius grunted. "Fine. I needed to send something to Balgruuf anyways. Your Housecarl will be a fine source of credibility in his court," the General said. He took the letter from my hand. "Report to Whiterun as soon as you get out – I have no doubt Ulfric has his eyes on the city even now."

I saluted the general. "Of course, Sir. See you soon." I turned from the general to go speak to Delphine's friend, Malborn, in the Winking Skeever inn of Solitude.


	13. Diplomatic Immunity:Fall of Whiterun

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Fires raged in the city of Whiterun, with silly little humans running in terror every which way. I saw a projectile of stone and flame fly through the air to crush a mother desperately trying to protect her daughter. It was like animals led to the slaughter. "We need to push onward through the city," the commander of the attack said. The hulking Nord brandished his two handed ax in a single hand to point towards Dragonsreach and the Cloud District. "There are two paths. The Unblooded _elf_ will take one prong, and I the other as Lord Ulfric commanded." The Nord slammed his shoulder into an incoming Imperial Soldier. The soldier tumbled to the ground, dazed. By the time his senses had returned, his last vision was of a huge ax slicing his head in half. "GO!"

I nodded to the Nord and ran through the city, a few of the Stormcloaks following close behind me. I pulled the blue scarf tighter around my face – I couldn't have my free rein in the Imperial zones of Skyrim tainted by my temporary allegiance to the Stormcloaks. A good agent is welcome anywhere.

"Hide around these buildings until my say so!" I commanded the soldiers under my command. The soldiers grunted uneasily but did as the 'she-elf' said. I stood my ground and faced the squadron of Imperial soldiers that advanced towards me in the streets.

"Die, rebel filth!" one of the soldiers screamed. He rushed towards me, swinging his steel mace wildly. I ducked under the first blow and slammed my armored fist into the man's kneecap. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground, his mace clattering uselessly behind me.

I stood up before bringing my blade into the throat of the soldier. "Now!" I shouted, ordering the Stormcloaks out from their positions. The Nords roared with powerful bloodthirst as they charged the squadron of Imperials. The blue-clad soldiers made short work of the Imperials, so that soon all that was left of the puny humans was blood and brain matter that flowed like red rivers through the cobblestone streets of Whiterun.

"Well, looks like the elf isn't so bad," I heard one of the soldiers whisper to another. His friend laughed lightly, then the entire squad turned to look at me.

"Keep going," I commanded sternly. I walked past the Nords and prepared my twin blades to further quench their thirst for Imperial blood.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The party with the dignitaries in the Thalmor court was incredibly stressful. I was deeply worried that Thera would have reported on me enough so that Elenwen and her soldiers would be on the lookout for me. I had to sit through three – _three_ – hours of Elven speeches and cheap, nasty alcohol before the opportunity to make my way into the back rooms presented itself. "Youse can't shut me offs from the ale!" a Redguard man slurred. He slapped lazily at the server who was pulling the tray away from him. "You elvsh and yur cheapnesh."

"Sorry for my friend," I said. I grabbed an ale and pulled the man away to sit down. "He's had... too many."

I pushed the man onto a bench and smiled down at him. It was the same Redguard who had arrived concurrently with me. "What wash thath for?"

"You looked like you needed some help," I noted as I pulled the ale out from behind me. The man's eyes lit up and he reached for the ale. I pulled it out of his reach and shook my head. "Can you do something for me if I give it to you?"

"Anyfing!" the man half-shouted.

"Good... can you, I don't know, get everyone's attention for a few minutes? I have something I need to do," I said as I passed the ale to the man.

"Oh, you came to the right place, friend," he said. He downed the alcohol and smiled. "Just wash and learn!"

I watched the Redguard walk towards the center of the room. "Toast! Toast!" he screamed, drawing the attention of the entire room. I turned to the serving counter, and Malborn, and nodded. The Wood Elf nodded back at me and I rushed as quietly as I could to enter the kitchen with him.

"Hope no one saw us," Malborn said, worry and annoyance passing through his voice. "I don't want to be hunted to Oblivion by the damn Thalmor for the rest of my life."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," I said. "Did you bring the stuff I gave you?" The Elf nodded. "Good, then let's get going."

Malborn opened the door into the kitchen and froze. I bumped into him and peered around his shoulder. "What's this, Malborn? You know Tsavani does not like strange smells in her kitchen."

I have to give Malborn credit, he was fast on his feet. "A guest, not feeling well. I just brought him back for a few herbs."

"You know," Tsavani hissed, "that guests are not allowed in the back rooms."

Malborn gritted his teeth and went right for the blackmail card. "Last I checked, neither was moon sugar – so keep it quiet," he stated, drawing a hiss of defeat from the cat woman. To me: "Follow me."

Malborn walked through the kitchen, me following close behind. We passed the Khajit woman who hissed again at me before returning to her duties. Malborn opened another door and pulled me close. "Your stuff's in the chest," he whispered. "Good luck and, to be honest, I hope I never see you again."

"Good luck yourself, friend," I said earnestly before walking through the door and opening the chest. Malborn shut the door quietly behind me and I was suddenly alone in unfamiliar territory. I pulled my armor and weaponry out from the chest and grimaced. "Here goes."

_**Jul**_

**Lydia**

The Dragonborn's housecarl deflected blow after blow from the invading Stormcloak military. Her Thane's letter, along with General Tullius', had warned that an attack by the rebels was imminent, but to have begun so soon? Lydia buried her steel blade between the ribs of her nearest attacker before slamming her shield into the head of another. The soldier's neck snapped around quickly and his body hit the floor, limp and dead. "We have to get the Jarl out of here!" Irileth screamed. The Dunmer's blade pierced the throat of an incoming Stormcloak as she shouted.

"I will not abandon my Hold and my people!" Balgruuf shouted back. He slammed his two handed sword into the chest of a Stormcloak and continued the blow, bashing the body and blade into another two of his enemies. "That is not the kind of Jarl they deserve!"

"They won't have a Jarl they deserve if you end up dead, Balgruuf!" Irileth shouted back. She lashed out with her blade once more and the hand of a Stormcloak hit the ground, quickly followed by the rebel woman's head.

"It doesn't seem to matter, we are defeating them in our home," Balgruuf's brother shouted as he bashed the skull of a Stormcloak in with his blade's pommel. "We'll destroy this rebel filth before they can even think of hurting our city further!"

Lydia deflected the blow of another Stormcloak and the blade ricocheted into one of the Stormcloak's allies. Crimson blood rushed from the blue-clad man's body to join the ever deepening pool of Nord blood that was bathing Dragonsreach in the sins of its people. Lydia knew that the battle was far from over, but she had to partially agree with Hrongar – despite the setbacks, the tide of the battle was still in the favor of Whiterun and the Empire. Lydia herself had taken the lives of nearly two dozen invaders, and Irileth nearly twice as many.

Lydia decapitated the other invading Stormcloak, then deflected another attack with her shield. Her sword arced through the air, slicing off the legs of the belligerent. His body hit the ground with a _slorp-thud_ and the sounds of screams. "Divines save us all," Lydia murmured. She thought of her Thane. "Talos guide us." Her blade entered the chest of the fallen soldier and she returned her attention to the battle. Despite the skill of the city's defenders, the battle seemed endless. No matter how many Stormcloaks the Jarl's court killed, more seemed to flood into Dragonsreach. An ocean of brown and blue armor that threatened to drown the freedom of Whiterun.

She could not give up, however. She scanned the room, quickly locating the bear-skin clad warrior that commanded the other Stormcloaks. She nodded to a nearby Imperial to aid her, and the two rushed to attack the man. Lydia carved her way through the thickest area of Stormcloaks, her blade singing a song of death and destruction that eventually left it coated with brown leather and crimson blood. She slammed her shield into an oncoming blade and threw her steel blade forward. The tip of the weapon pierced the Stormcloak officer's chest, and the man coughed and gurgled blood. He soon fell to the floor, dead. The invaders around him suddenly became fearful, and Lydia felt the tide of the battle surge in the favor of Whiterun. Stormcloaks began to run from the hall, terrified and confused. Lydia was sure, at that moment, that victory was within their grasp.

Then the air seemed to shift, heralding some great darkness that had entered. A single warrior, shorter than the other Stormcloaks and clad in elven armor with a single blue scarf, entered the reach. Lydia knew, at that moment, that Whiterun was lost. No strength could save them, save perhaps the Dragonborn. The warrior's blade slashed through the throat of the nearest Imperial, quickly spinning the momentum to impale another. "Get the Jarl!" the warrior – a woman – commanded. Her attention then turned back to the battle. Her Elven blades slashed through the bodies of the Imperial defenders. Lydia knew that, while her skills were like a song, this new invader's abilities were almost like a symphony of death and destruction. Imperials fell to the blades of all around the Elven-clad woman, who advanced slowly, menacingly, terrifyingly towards Jarl Balgruuf.

"Prepare to die, Jarl," the warrior said.

"Not today, Traitor!" he retorted. He raised his blade to defend himself, but his weapon and body were quickly tossed aside.

"FUS-RO-DAH!" the warrior woman screamed, her words taking form and throwing the Jarl through the air. The battle around the room suddenly stopped, and Lydia watched in horror as the woman approached the Jarl.

"This cannot happen. I have failed my Thane..." Lydia said, downtrodden. Then she lifted her head and gazed at the attacker. "Not yet, though." Lydia lifted her blade and screamed mightily, drawing the attention of the warrior.

"Ah, Lucius' pet," the elf-clad woman said. She raised one of her weapons lazily, deflecting the incoming blow with minimal effort. "It shall be fun to kill you."

"Run my Jarl!" Lydia screamed. Her blade and shield collided with the woman's twin swords. "I beg of you!"

"Balgruuf!" Irileth barked. "Run!" She grabbed the Jarl and dragged him through Dragonsreach. "We can still get you out through the tunnels!"

"We cannot leave her! We cannot leave Lydia or the city!" Balgruuf shouted, struggling against Irileth and the Imperials that dragged him away.

"We have to!" Irileth shouted before slamming her fist into the Jarl's face. He went limp, unconscious. "We... have to..."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Lucius' pet was stronger than I expected. Nothing compared to me, of course, but a warrior nonetheless. Her skill with the shield and blade was astounding and, if she had not met me, perhaps capable of becoming the best in Tamriel. Unfortunately, she _did_ meet me. My blades batted her attack away with an almost cruel amount of disinterest. Her attacks were stopped before they even began, at times. The steel sword in her hand bashed into my deflections, sparking as metal dragged against metal.

"How do you know of my Thane!?" Lydia commanded as another of her attacks was put in its place.

"Oh, we've met. I'm the one who is going to _kill him_," I said, venom dripping from the last words I spoke. The woman's eyes lit up with rage.

"You cannot kill him! He is the strongest, kindest man in Tamriel. I am proud to be his Housecarl, and I will defend him from any threat. You included, Stormcloak!" she screamed at me.

I laughed and deflected her attacks. "I am no Stormcloak," I whispered as our blades struggled in a lock. "You may remember me – Thera, the Thalmor. And your master? He was also Thalmor." Lydia's eyes went wide, and I seized my moment. I angled my two blades forcefully, snapping the steel weapon cleanly in two. My helmeted head collided with the Nord woman's unprotected crown, drawing blood that clouded her vision. "Now die." My twin blades stabbed through the woman's closed eyes and erupted from the other side of her skull. I pulled my blades from her head, and her form fell to the ground, dead.

"We – We've won!" a Stormcloak screamed. "We won!" The room screamed in approval and victory, joy and wonder filling the souls of every Stormcloak fool present.

_Oh, you only think you've won_, I thought with a grin._ Really, _**_I_** _won._

I looked down at the body of the Nord housecarl, whose blood and brain began to leak out of the holes in both the front and back of her skull. What kind of human fool could even hope to compete with the superior breeding and skill of an Elven agent? Obviously, one that had a death wish. I spit out blood onto the woman's body and turned away. The war would now continue, even more brutal and vicious than before. I smiled – I had been looking for a good human bloodbath.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I buried my blade hilt deep into the chest of a Thalmor guard before quickly turning to decapitate another incoming soldier. A barrage of fire erupted from my outstretched arm, igniting the flesh of another four incoming elves before I turned my attention to the Thalmor wizard and his Lightning Atronach that kept firing blasts of magickal lightning at me, draining my magicka reserves. "Just give up, you worthless human!" the wizard screamed as his atronach continued to fire at me.

"Not a chance, you filth," I sneered. I launched a powerful fireball at the atronach with the last of my magicka, and the summoned Daedra disappeared in a shower of magickal sparks. I stalked towards the wizard, who backed up through the courtyard in terror. Snow fell lightly around us, mixing with the puddles of blood and destruction around us. I grabbed the wizard by the collar of his robes and lifted him into the air with one hand. "Where is Elenwen's study – her information center?"

"I'll never tell you!" the Thalmor shouted.

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes. Yes you will," I stated before channelling an electrical storm through my left hand. The sparks flew through the Thalmor's body and he writhed in incredible pain.

"Let him go, Lucius Atmoran. He will tell you nothing," a woman's voice stated behind me. I snarled and electrocuted the wizard into unconsciousness.

I turned around slowly, my snarl still etched onto my face. "Elenwen. Looks like you found me – too bad for you."

"Oh, you won't kill me, will you? Not like your masters," she said.

My heart began to race and terror froze my veins. She – she knew. But how? "What are you talking about?" I asked, the weak lie already giving way to Elenwen's icy stare.

The Thalmor's face took on a sinister grin. "I've read the reports on you. You're wanted dead, aren't you?" she asked.

I narrowed my eyes. "If you know that," I said, taking a step towards her, "then you know what I've done." The elf woman took a frightened step backwards as I neared her in the courtyard. I smiled – her fear was good. If I could play up her fears that I was a terrifying monster, I could escape without a scratch. "You will tell me where your information is on the Dragons and on anything else you have. Especially on me."

The woman backed away for a moment longer until her back collided with the iron cast fence that surrounded the courtyard. "Ayrenn!" the she-elf shouted.

My legs suddenly refused to obey me. Ice and fire ran in turns through my mind. "Y-you... Bitch," I said. She knew the word that the Dominion had used to send me into a killing frenzy. My mind flashed back to the dark room once again, a man kneeling before me in a black execution mask.

"Ayrenn!" the handler had screamed.

I had woken up twenty minutes later drenched in blood and surrounded by the organs of the man I had been ordered to kill.

I had broken that conditioning through incredible effort and time. Still, though, I...

I turned and ran from Elenwen, making my way into the building across from the main embassy. I slammed the door shut behind me, blockading the entrance with whatever furniture I could find. I ran through the building, eventually stopping in what looked like a study. I tore open the chest, the tattered remains of my rationality reminding me of why I was even there. I flipped through the books. One was on dragons and a man named Esbern. Another on the state of the war – Thera's name was mentioned once or twice. Finally... I flipped incredulously through the pages. "Gods," I breathed. The information in the notebook had scared me back into sanity. I returned to the first page and read through the short report again desperately. "Ulfric Stormcloak... is an Aldmeri asset?"


	14. Tinvaak:The First Clash

**A/N: To all those who have favorited or followed the story, I just want to give a special shoutout. Author of Ice and Fire, DaKiwiMonsta, Lecterbabe03, Order and Chaos - Qui Iudicant, RoyalKnight Studios, SeekerM, ShadowNinja161, ThatGuyYouKnow, That Taco Guy, aidan2201, and davoid123. Also, to my first reviewer IrishA03, I want to give a big thanks. I hope to do you proud and keep all of your interests.**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stood silently in the main room of Castle Dour, the terrible news having left me numb and broken. In my worry about the dragons, I had completely neglected my duties as a soldier of the Imperial military. Perhaps, had I been present, Whiterun would have survived. Had I been present, would Lydia – "Auxiliary? Auxiliary!"

I snapped out of my broken stupor. "Auxiliary, I know this is difficult for you, but I need you to pull yourself together," Tullius firmly stated. I stared into the balding general's eyes and nodded. "Good. The embassy went completely quiet nearly four hours ago, around the time that our messenger found you in the Solitude wilderness. That was about twelve hours after the first messenger hawk arrived with the news of Whiterun's fall. The embassy's silence... I take it that this means your mission was successful?"

I nodded. "Um... Yes, Sir. I... Um, I found... They don't know anything about the dragons, Sir. Less than any I've met so far. I have the journals of the ambassador here... I..." I shook my head somberly and pulled the two reports from my pack. Wordlessly, I passed the dossier on Ulfric Stormcloak to the general.

Tullius flipped through the pages of the report, slowly at first but he soon began to wildly turn the pages back and forth, studying the information. As he read the final page once again, his eyes widened and he looked back up at me. "Y-you're sure about this?" he asked.

"Yessir," I said with a somber nod.

Tullius looked back down at the page and shook his head. He motioned for one of the guards to enter the room. "Go get Legate Rikke and bring her here, straightaway," he commanded. The soldier saluted the general and ran off to find the legate. Tullius turned back to me, shaking his head. "It... If this is true, then this entire war has been orchestrated by the Thalmor just to hurt the Empire. Oblivion!"

"Sir, what is it that you need?" Rikke asked as she was led into the room.

Tullius looked over and waved the guard from the room. When the soldier left, Tullius handed Rikke the report. "Legate, what do you make of this?"

Rikke flipped through the pages of the report quickly, then returned her attention to the general and me. "You believe it is true, Sir?" she asked. Tullius nodded. "Then I am afraid to say that, while this offers a great insight into Ulfric's mindset, I am unsure whether it will be useful."

"What do you mean?" I growled. "What do you mean it won't be useful against Ulfric?!"

"I believe that this report is true," Rikke assured, assuaging my rage. "But Ulfric will likely be able to spin this in a way that draws more to his side, especially in the wake of Whiterun's fall. Revealing this information would only appear petty and weak until a victory has been achieved."

"What the hell do you mean!?" I shouted. "We need to cripple them! Destroy them _NOW!_"

Rikke sighed. "Luc, they would deny it. Claim we only released it because we were afraid they might win. They'd be right about that."

"And on top of that," Tullius continued, "Ulfric's hatred of any non-Nord would be proof enough for most we were lying, despite the veracity of our information."

I glared between Rikke and Tullius. I knew that they were right. I knew that the Stormcloaks would destroy our claims or even hide the information itself from the people of Skyrim. Finally, I sighed and gave in. "Fine... Is Balgruuf going to be here? I – I'd like to know more about how Lydia died."

Tullius nodded. "Of course, but first... for bringing us this information with deadly risk towards yourself, I promote you to Quaestor. You are worthy of this – more than you know, I think," the General said. "Take this sword as a symbol of your office." From his belt, the general took an enchanted ebony sword. "Balgruuf should be here within the week. We need time to prepare our next move, anyways." I nodded, saluted the general, and left him and Rikke to discuss Skyrim's fate.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Thirty-seven Altmer and fifteen Bosmer killed, in a single day. By, no less, a human. Such a thing seemed... impossible. But this human _was_ trained by the Dominion, by superior Aldmeri teachers, so the murders were more of a compliment towards the superior skills and techniques of Mer warriors, mages, and assassins. Lucius was a continuation of their skills, a battlemage of the highest order; moreover, the man's Breton blood connected him to the Aldmer as well, further evidence of the strength of the Mer in his ancestry.

"Have you seen him in recent times?" Elenwen asked as she looked down at the bodies of her guards with sadness. Weakness. They fell to a human – even if he was trained by elves, they should have killed him.

"Lucius? No, not since the incident with the dragon at Whiterun," I explained, then I began to laugh. "Though if the best he could send against me was that Nord I killed, I doubt he will give me too much trouble."

Elenwen grabbed my shoulder and turned me to look at her. "I saw the way he moves, the way he fights. Truly it is as if magicka itself flows through his veins," she stated, fear causing her words to quiver. "You would do well to not underestimate this threat, Thera."

"Is that fear of a _human _I detect, Elenwen?" I mocked. "The grand council would not approve."

"And who will tell them, hm?" Elenwen threatened.

I smiled. "Not I, Elenwen," I lied. I smiled to assuage her fears. "What would you have me do?"

Elenwen frowned. "This entire attack – and even the dragons – _reeks_ of the Blades. And perhaps even Tullius. Around us his voice is one with the concordat. Behind closed doors, however, I doubt he will pliable to our cause. But Tullius is too high profile, so he is safe, for now at least." Elenwen turned away from me and began to pace across the bloody snow. "The Blades are the only ones we could find. One of the dossiers stolen by the human was information on a Blade, Esbern, hiding in Riften. I have dispatched messengers, but the effects of the war will hinder the progress of an elf into Stormcloak borders. For now, look for Blades in Skyrim, find what they want with Lucius. Then kill them."

"Of course, Elenwen," I said with a bow.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Dragonborn," Balgruuf said as we greeted. The man's once powerful, cunning eyes were empty and pained. His spirit had been broken by the loss of his home and forced abandonment of his family. He sat at a table in the cellar of the Blue Palace, the home of Jarl Elisif, with Irileth and his brother. He looked embarrassed that I was seeing him there, at his lowest. "I – What brings you here, friend?"

I looked at the ground. "I should have been there," I said quietly, apologizing to my friend. I glanced upward with my eyes.

Balgruuf looked at me somberly. "Aye, Thane, you should have been. The Voice was with the warrior who took my home," he said. Shock and fear ran through me, along with self-loathing. I had failed him. Suddenly, I felt his hand on my shoulder and looked up. He smiled sadly. "But you also hold a duty to the world, as Dragonborn, and to the Empire, as her soldier. General Tullius explained what you were doing to me. You could have saved my hold, but a chance to harm the Thalmor is... necessary. Tell me, Dragonborn, what did you learn?"

"Ulfric is not the hero that the Stormcloaks believe," I said. I shook my head. "Do not let anyone else know, my Jarl."

"Of course, Dragonborn," he replied, placing his fist over his chest.

"Thank you," I said, doing the same with my fist. "Ulfric is being used by the Thalmor. The entire civil war – it's a ploy to weaken the Empire. He's a Thalmor asset."

Balgruuf's eyes widened. "That is... Damn."

I nodded. "Aye." We two were quiet for some time then. Finally. "Do you need anything, Balgruuf?"

The Jarl looked at the ground and sighed. "If you can make it into Whiterun anytime soon, please... I need to know if my children are safe."

I nodded. "I have business in Riverwood anyways, my Jarl. I would be glad to help you," I said. I smiled to comfort the man, and a glimmer of his old self seemed to shine through.

"Many thanks, my friend," he said. He pulled my hand from his shoulder and clasped my forearm. "Many thanks, Dragonborn."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

The Blades. I knew it was only a matter of time before those defunct warriors tried once again to attack the Dominion. Despite what Elenwen believed, I highly doubted the old Akaviri order had the strength to summon a dragon or bind Lucius to their will. Whatever the questionable strength of the human order, they were more nuisance than threat to the Thalmor. That did not mean, however, I would ignore Elenwen's orders regarding the blades. She did not deserve to command me anymore, but I could not turn down murdering a Blades warrior. It's too much fun, and too rare now.

I walked into the town of Riverwood and was greeted warmly by the Stormcloak occupying soldiers, many of whom had taken part in the battle for Whiterun. The town blacksmith cast a dirty look in my direction as he hammered the steel at his forge. The Nord was not the one to catch my eye however. Standing just outside of the inn, clad in full battle armor, was Delphine. She stared at me with concern and confusion, then turned on one heel and bolted from town. I narrowed my eyes. "Round two," I muttered to myself as I drew my blades. I sprinted after her.

She led me away from the occupied township, over hills and along the river that ran through the village. Finally, she stopped and turned to me. "What do you want, bitch?"

"Oh, articulate, human," I mocked. "You can form full sentences now?"

The Blade growled and her katana sang from its sheathe, the sunlight glinting menacingly off of the edge. "This didn't end well for you last time," she noted with a smile.

"We didn't know who I was last time," I said, grinning with what she would have probably considered 'evil.' I can't help it that I would take joy in skinning her alive.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confusion running through her eyes.

"_Wuld!_" I shouted, suddenly appearing next to the Blade. The woman stood, frozen, as the knowledge of exactly what I am dawned on her.

"B-but..."

"Surprised I am the Dragonborn you fools have searched so long for?" I asked, twisting the metaphorical knife. "You long for the leadership of a Dragonborn, and it turns out that I was with the Thalmor the entire time, you _worthless_ human."

"This can't be..."

"It can. And it is." I smiled cruelly. "Prepare to die, fool." I pulled my blade back to jab it through her midsection and finally end the thorn in my side that was Delphine. Fate, it seemed, had other plans. I felt a blast of fire collide with my side and was thrown away from the Breton, my body bruised and my pride singed. No one should have been able to sneak up on me.

I pushed myself to my feet, grateful that I had been able to hold on to my sabers. "Unfortunately for you, last time we met my friend Lydia was alive. You killed her, so prepare to die," my assailant said. Lucius Atmoran stood with fire in his hand and eyes, ready to kill me. "_Fool_."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

As I made my way into Whiterun, ignored largely by the Stormcloaks occupying the town, I was greeted warmly by Alvor. "Hail, Dragonborn!" the blacksmith whispered as we clasped arms.

"Hail, Alvor," I replied. "What's going on here?"

"Damn Stormcloaks – ever since they took Whiterun, they've been taking supplies from the people. Claim it is a _tax_ for supporting the Empire so long. Damn Milk-drinkers. I've had my last set of armor and two waraxes taken as 'retribution' already," he said. He frowned and shook his head. "Damn elf warrior."

"Elf?" I asked.

"Aye, follow me," he said, looking around carefully. He led me into the main body of the forge, where we were obscured by the smoke. "It's not safe to be seen speaking about her."

"An elf woman?"

"Aye. A Stormcloak, destroyed the entire military force defending Dragonsreach. So the rumors go," Alvor explained.

"Did Hadvar make it out okay?" I asked.

"He wasn't there to begin with – he's posted in Dawnstar. He's told me that he's intercepted messages and that the hold is close to falling to the Empire. At least, that was the news before..." Alvor raised his arms in defeat and looked around. Suddenly his eyes became hard and he glared out of his smithy.

"What's wrong?"

"That's her, the damn elf," he said, gesturing with his head. My gaze followed his and I froze. Even through the heavy smoke of the forge, I knew who he was looking at. Thera, the damnable Thalmor.

"What's she doing here?" I asked of no one in particular.

"Damned if I know," Alvor said as he watched her go off. "But Delphine doesn't seem to like it."

I looked up in surprise and watched the Breton sprinting from town, away from Thera. "It's been good catching up. I'll be back soon," I told Alvor. "Stay safe, friend." I did not stay to hear the man's reply, and merely sprinted from the town after Delphine and Thera. Delphine sprinted a good distance from town, a good thirty minute's run. In my heavy armor, there were times I was worried I was falling behind. Eventually, however, I saw the beginning of the confrontation.

Thera Shouted – Shouted – the whirlwind sprint shout and appeared, suddenly, next to Delphine. I walked closer, drawing my blade and bringing the formation of a fireball to my fingertips. "Die, fool!" the elf shouted. Her blade drew close to the stunned Delphine, and I let my fireball go.

The elf woman was flung away from Delphine, the metal of her armor melting from the intense heat. "Unfortunately for you, last time we met my friend Lydia was alive. You killed her, so prepare to die," I began. I sneered and mocked the elf woman further as I neared her. "_Fool_."

Thera scrabbled to her feet, both blades still in hand, and glared at me. "Lucius Atmoran – we meet again," she said. A single line of crimson flowed slowly from the edge of her mouth. She sneered and her blood stained teeth evoked the image of a monster ready to kill all around her. "You caused quite a commotion when you broke into Elenwen's study. I doubt her political strength will recover from such a blow."

I ignored her. "You murdered my friend, my closest friend," I stated simply.

"What, your human pet?" she asked. "Surely your Thalmor training taught you better."

"She was my friend. Abandoning you monsters taught me about things like that," I said. I fired another fireball at the elf, but she rolled beneath the blast and rushed towards me, twin blades swinging for my throat. I was in no mood to go easy on her. I brought my blade up to catch her first blow and lashed out with my foot. She doubled over and stumbled backwards. I advanced towards her slowly. "But killing you monsters... it takes me back to then. To when I was tortured for eight days straight until I murdered a child. It reminds me of why I kill Thalmor – and only Thalmor – without remorse."

The she-elf laughed dryly, but a flicker of fear ran through her eyes. "There's the asset our masters worked so hard to craft."

"Failed to craft – just like you Thalmor fail in everything," I sneered. The woman's eyes lit up with fury. "Humans are just better than you trash." She roared, then, and rushed at me again. I aimed a blast of fire at the ground and she ran through the blaze. Her armor began to melt again and she screamed in pain. I slammed the pommel of my blade into her head and she stumbled backwards. I raised my blade to attack once again, and brought the edge down onto her twin blades that struggled to defend against my relentless strength.

"You will not escape me, Thalmor Bitch," I stated.

The woman's eyes were filled with fear. "I will. _FUS... RO DAH!_"

I was flung backwards and crashed through the dirt. The world disappeared around me as I slipped into unconsciousness.

I finally came to hours later, with Delphine tending my concussion. Thera was nowhere to be seen. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Aye," I said as I struggled to my feet.

Delphine was quiet for a moment. "Ha..."

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Not really. Well... the Blades searched for a Dragonborn for two hundred years, and there were two living under the thumb of the Thalmor the whole time. Ha... I don't know why I'm laughing," the Breton said.

"I escaped them," I said.

"Did you really? Or did they let you think that?" she asked, the accusation of living Thalmor ties ringing in her voice.

I furrowed my brow and my eyes became icy. "I am called Lucius Atmoran, successor of Ysgramor. Elf-Bane. Thalmor Slayer. I am a dark legend spoken of by the Aldmeri Dominion in fear, in agony. They would never allow such a blow to morale to exist," I said. I paused, and my face grew softer. A fear ran through my spine. "She is Dragonborn, then?"

"She seems to think so," Delphine replied sadly.

I shook my head. "Regardless, we have to get to Riften. A Blade named Esbern is hiding there, and the Thalmor seem to think -"

"Esbern's alive?" Delphine breathed. Her face lit up and she shot to her feet. A new life and joy seemed to be running through her bones. "Well, I guess nothing's hopeless! We need to hurry – the Thalmor have to be after him, still." Delphine turned to me, grinning. "Lead the way – Dragonborn."


	15. A Cornered Rat:City of Thieves

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Delphine ran her blade across the brown, furred armor of the assassin she had just killed then sheathed the weapon. We had been about a half hour from Riften when we had been assaulted from every side by the six criminals, each clad head to toe in different armor and no two carrying the same weaponry. The fight had, in total, taken nearly three-quarter hours. Given that it had been the two of us against six Dark Brotherhood assassins, I thought that our swiftness in dispatching them – Oblivion, that the two of us even survived – was incredibly impressive.

"Check their packs," I told Delphine. She turned to me and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "They're Dark Brotherhood. It was clear in how they moved. This was probably a side hire – one of which their leader did not approve."

Delphine shrugged and began to rifle through the packs of the nearby assassins. After a moment's hesitation, I began to do the same. The Dark Brotherhood held that killing their own was a... heinous crime. Assassins they may have been, but a code of honor was common amongst them. Under my breath, I whispered, "Talos guide you." I stopped at a warrior clad entirely in steel plate armor; I knew he was the leader as soon as I reached into his satchel. I pulled the death warrant – _my_ death warrant – out and unfolded it.

_A human traveling towards Riften, possibly with an accomplice. Very large Breton-Imperial male. Terminate with extreme prejudice. You will receive fifteen times the normal rate upon confirmation of death._

_E_

I snarled and set the flame ablaze. "The Thalmor," I growled. Elenwen had sent the Dark Brotherhood after me in her haste to destroy me, even with the knowledge she held about my former trainers. I turned to Delphine. "They already got word here to look out for me."

"That means Esbern's in trouble," Delphine said. "Daedra spit. We need to hurry." I nodded, and the two of us ran up towards the city.

Unfortunately, we were greeted by the incredibly corrupt Riften guardsmen at the gate. "Whoa, stranger! Not so fast," one of the two guards stationed at the door said as I made to enter the city. "You have to pay a toll to enter our fair city. Thirty septims."

Delphine shook her head as I shrugged and began to pull the coin from my pack. "Don't, Luc," she said. Her hand was on my shoulder, preventing me from paying the guardsmen.

"What's the meaning of this?" the other guard snapped at Delphine, his hand on his blade.

She smiled and shook her head. "Tell Bryn I'm not dumb enough to pay a fake tax," she said before pushing past the frozen guard and towards the gate. "Coming?"

"I – yeah," I said, pocketing the gold. I rushed into the city after her. "Um, who is Bryn?"

Delphine sighed and led me through the city's streets that passed over the watery canal ways winding through the Hold's capital and into the lake the city was built upon. The smell wafting up from the canal confirmed my suspicion that it was the... product of mortals. "Who is Bryn?"

Delphine stopped halfway across a bridge that crossed the canal – not the best place, but she didn't even seem to notice the smell. "Brynjolf is..." Delphine began, then shrugged. "He's complicated. Just know that he knows _everything _going on in this town, Thalmor and Esbern included. It's a safe bet he knows exactly where both of them are."

"So he's going to tell us?" I asked.

Delphine laughed. "He's a _thief._ Riften is where the _Thieves Guild_ lives. We're going to have to do something for him if we expect anything in return," she explained. She turned around and kept walking, obviously expecting I would follow. I did.

"So we're going to have to steal something for him?" I asked. I exhaled nervously. "I'm... not sure if I'm okay with that."

Delphine turned back to me. "Excuse me?"

"I..." I half froze from the stare she was giving me. I furrowed my brow. "We threaten him – tell us, or we'll turn him in."

Delphine laughed dryly. "The Guild owns half the guards in the Hold – it's the only place that they're still strong. No. They would either not arrest Bryn, or he'd be out in a few hours and be much more inclined to help the Thalmor against us. We have to do this."

I narrowed my eyes. "No. We don't. You obviously know this place pretty well," I said. Delphine stared at me and nodded slowly. "You're also a paranoid freak – no offense meant. Where would you hide?"

Delphine glared at me for a moment, then her brow softened and she looked at me with a cross between annoyance and admiration. "Okay. I think I have an idea. You have problems with going in sewers?"

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

As I peeled the scale armor from an assassin killed by Lucius, I began to question whether Elenwen truly deserved any loyalty from me. In truth, I had been her underling for decades, since the end of the Great War. In all that time she had risen only on the back of my accomplishments. And this failure with Dark Brotherhood rejects..? I was giving serious thought toward reporting her constant failures to the Aldmeri Council. Of course, my recent defeat at the human's hands would be removed from any report. I am not fool enough to think that my failure would not hinder my journey to power.

Yet, Lucius and the Blades would indeed be a problem, still. I lightly scrubbed the blood off of the armor with water from the lake and replaced my elven armor with it. I would need to kill them before I did anything else, before they could threaten me, so following them to Riften was the clear decision. Finding them in the city would be an issue, most likely. If they were hunting for a Blade hiding in Riften, I doubted they would be anywhere I could easily find. As soon as the armor was clean, I pulled the material across my body and dumped my previous, melted armor onto the ground. For good measure, I grabbed an ebony saber and orcish war axe from the pile of dead bodies and slid them into my belt.

I roamed up the pathway to the capital of the Hold and began to overhear the guards posted outside the gate. " – amn woman. I can't believe she knew Brynjolf," one said sullenly to his partner. I crouched as I approached the gate and slid outside the two men's lines of sight to hide behind the nearby stable.

"How does a half-elf bitch like her even know Brynjolf?" the other guard asked. _Half elf..? Delphine, the Breton._ "If it weren't for her, that fool would have paid us the gold we asked for."

"Shhh!" the first one hissed. "We can't let our Captain hear about this – or any other fools on the road." And that was my cue to embarrass the two sub-Mer Nords.

I walked out from behind my hiding place, taking care to not be seen by the two until I had made my way back onto the road. Then, I revealed myself. I walked as loudly as possible to herald my arrival, and the two guards snapped back into attention. "You'll need to pay a toll to enter the city," one of the two said. "Thirty septims."

I smiled. "Of course," I said with a disarming smile. I pulled the gold from my pack and handed it over to the guard, who quickly placed it into a gold pouch on his hip. I noted that his partner had a similar one on his belt. The two guards walked towards the gate to unlock it, and I softly took the two gold-filled pouches from each.

"Don't cause no trouble," the guard demanded as he let me through the gate. It slammed shut behind me.

"Well, well, it's nice to see someone new with some talent. I don't know you, though. You in Riften lookin' for trouble?" a gravelly voice laughed. I looked up to be face to face with a huge, black haired Nord. He grinned evilly. "What are you doing here in Riften?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Looking for someone, Mister..."

"I'm Maul. And you're that elf that Ulfric somehow let into his army," the gravelly voiced Nord said. My eyes widened slightly in surprise. "What? The Thieves' Guild knows everything, and I know the Thieves' Guild. For one of those guard's pockets, you can know a bit of what I know, too."

I growled exasperatedly, but handed one of the gold purses – the lighter one – over to Maul. He smiled. "Nice doin' business with you," he drawled. He suddenly became serious. "What do you need to know?"

"I'm looking for someone – someone hiding here, in Riften. He likely is not known by anyone and keeps to himself. An old man, about -"

"Look, if it's someone hiding, you'd better talk to Brynjolf," Maul interjected. He crossed his arms. "Check the Bee and the Barb, he's usually there this time of day. You can't miss him."

"What does he look like?" I asked. "No offense, but all you Nords look the same to me."

Maul shook his head. "Believe me, you'll either know him, or he'll know you. Go, we're done here." Maul turned on his heel and stalked away through the city.

"Helpful people, eh?" I grumbled to myself. I thought about hunting Maul down and torturing him for more information, but if this 'Thieves' Guild' was as powerful as he suggested, I had to play it safe with their allies. I turned and began my search for the 'Bee and the Barb,' whatever that was. Turns out, it was an inn.

I walked into the rinky dink inn, owned by two beastfolk Argonians. Sure enough, I did recognize Brynjolf right away. He stood slightly away from the door and was staring at me with an amused smile. He was of average height for a Nord, with reddish-brown hair that hung around his head in a mop simultaneously controlled and messy. He had pronounced cheekbones, and a collection of light scars. For a human, he was quite... ahem... handsome. Ugh, if the Council could read this, they'd kill me.

"Never done an honest day of work in your life for all that coin you're carryin', eh lass?" Brynjolf asked.

I smiled. "I have quick hands," I replied. "Brynjolf."

He grinned back. "Aye, that's me. I heard you tricked my men at the gate – that shows some promise. How would you like to do a job for me? Good coin in it, if you succeed."

I smiled. "Only if you help me with something else. I'm told you know where to look for people. I'm looking."

"Hm?" Brynjolf grunted. "I'm betting I know just who. Tell you what, you do the job I need, I'll help you out."

"That's a deal," I replied with a sinister smile.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Now, when you said sewer, I didn't quite believe you," I said as we exited the home of the Thieves' Guild – a bar adjacent to a lake of excrement and filth – and wandered deeper into the Ratway. The cobblestone sewer looked to be the remains of a long abandoned prison, or perhaps a city that had sunk into the ground and been built over by the current residents of Riften living far above. "You showed me."

Delphine shook her head, but ignored me. After a few moments, she began to talk to me. "Okay, Dragonborn. Esbern's down here somewhere, and I'm willing to bet he is as far down as this place goes," she began. Her foot splashed in a puddle of something I was very sure was not water. "I'm also willing to bet that the Thalmor are already -"

"Leave me alone!" the voice of an old man came, shouting, through the darkness. "Leave! Now!"

"You are coming with us!" the nasally, condescending voice of a Thalmor Wizard responded. Magickal lightning lit up the room, and the old man's voice echoed with pain. "You two – grab him. And be careful: we need him alive, for now." Metal boots clanked on the ground.

Delphine turned to me. "That must be Esbern," she hissed. Her blade sang quietly as she pulled it from her hip. "We need to save him."

I nodded and drew my saber. "I am always ready to kill Thalmor," I responded simply. I watched from above as the Thalmor began to drag Esbern – an old, skinny, balding Nord – across the excrement bathed ground of the Ratway. I walked to the edge closest to the Wizard, who was observing his cronies. I glanced over at Delphine, who was staring at me like I was insane. "Feim!"

I jumped from the ledge as the whispered shout escaped my lips, the force of the ancient Magick still causing the foundations of the Ratway to shudder. My newly impervious and ghostly form fell through the dank air and landed behind the surprised, turning Wizard. The power of the shout disappeared as I raised my blade and quickly dispatched the Wizard. His head rolled slowly, menacingly towards the two Thalmor carrying Esbern. They dropped the man, whose head hit the ground with a dull – but otherwise non-deadly – thud.

The two Thalmor rushed towards me, summoning bound blades to their hands. I ducked under the first ethereal blade and delivered a sharp punch to the gut of its wielder. He doubled over, giving me time to launch a kick to the midsection of his partner. The second elf flew off of the stairs we were fighting on and crashed to the stone ground with a groan and the clatter of metal. I raised my blade above my head and the bound blade of the first Thalmor collided with a clang. I brought my elbow backwards into the elf's sternum. The metal on my arm collided with his chest and there was a sick crunch as his ribcage shattered from the blow. His breathing became labored wheezing until I finally brought my blade down and ended his misery. A quick bolt of Magickal lightning towards his friend still groaning a flight of stairs down finished the fight with the Thalmor.

"Damn," Delphine whispered as she reached me. "Wish we had you during the war..."

I shrugged and moved over to the old man. I pulled his head up slightly before using a healing spell on him. He groaned softly as the flesh in his skull knitted itself back to its preferred form. "Wh-what?" the old man said as his eyes drifted open. "Who are you?"

"Esbern!" Delphine half-breathed, half-shouted. She rushed forward to hug the man laying on the sewer floor.

"Wha? Why, Delphine, you're alive?" Esbern asked, joy beginning to creep into his voice. "It _is _you! Oh, Divines, I'm happy to see you."

"Me too, Old Man," she replied, hugging her mentor closer. "The dragons -"

At that, Esbern seemed to fall apart. "The dragons! The dragons' return... we're doomed, Delphine. Doomed."

"No, Esbern, you don't under -"

"The gods have forsaken us to our doom. Just as ancient prophecy foretold, the dragons spell the end for Nirn and its peoples," Esbern wailed.

"Esbern, we -"

"Without the favor of the Nine, there is no Dragonborn to save us, no great warrior driven by fate to defeat the dragons and lead the Blades," Esbern lamented. "We are truly doomed..."

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing _I _am Dragonborn, then," I said, causing the older man to become completely silent.

"Y-you are what?" he asked, turning to look at me for the first time. His eyes studied me intensely, painfully looking for any detail that would confirm my, admittedly insane, claim. His thin, bony hand grasped my armored wrist. "You are..." He pulled himself up using my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "Perhaps the Divines still hold mercy in their hearts for us mortals."

Esbern turned, then, to Delphine. "Delphine, I need you to collect some things from my home. A few books – you will know them when you see them. I must talk with the Dragonborn."

"Of course," Delphine said, her voice a much softer tone than she used when dealing with anyone else. She walked away, leaving me alone with Esbern.

"Do you know the legends of the dragons?" Esbern asked after a few moments.

"I know a little. The End of the World, mortal enslavement, and... not much else," I responded sheepishly.

"More than most know," Esbern assured me. His face grew grim. "Alduin has returned. Alduin, the World Eater and Lord of Dragons and Devourer of Sovngarde, has returned to lay waste to the works of mortals once again."

"Um, okay?" I said, unsure of what Esbern was talking of.

"My boy, do you not understand?" he asked upon seeing my expression. He sighed and shook his head. "Dragonborn – you are the only one who can defeat Alduin and save the world from its doom."

I laughed dryly. "So no pressure, aye?"

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I wandered into the Cistern of the Ragged Flagon, looking for Brynjolf and his information regarding this "Esbern" Blade that I had been sent to hunt down. He had sent me, earlier in Riften's Market Square, to steal a simple ring from an Argonian who worked in the region and then plant that ring on the person of a nearby Dunmer who – the _disgrace_ – was raised by Nords. "Yeah, yeah, Bryn. If I had a Septim for every failed recruit you brought in, I'd be richer than the Empire," the barkeep of the disgusting room said. His shaggy brown hair draped down to his dirty shoulders and he scrubbed a blackened glass with a rag nearly as dirty.

"I'm telling you, somethin's different about this lass," Brynjolf insisted. He was wearing a dark brown, almost black, armor with pockets sewn into almost every inch. The design was meant for thievery, but the leather still seemed thick enough to defend against most any attack. The design seemed somewhat... Daedric in design. "It was the first job that's worked out in months, Vekel."

"Aye, I believe you Bryn, but it's just a woman," the barkeep responded. "She's no lucky charm, aye?"

"Eh, perhaps, perhaps not," Brynjolf acquiesced. "But – Ah, there's the lass herself!"

I strode confidently into the Ragged Flagon. "Hello Brynjolf," I said, exchanging pleasantries.

"Hello, Lass. I knew you'd make it here." Brynjolf grinned deviously. He turned to Vekel. "You see? I told you she was somethin' different."

"Okay, Bryn, okay," the barkeep said, lifting his hands in mock defensiveness. "Sorry. It's good to meet you. Brynjolf seems convinced you're the savior of his little guild."

"Is that right?" I asked. I smiled. "I'd be happy to help, but I do have some things I need to attend to before stealing from the entirety of Skyrim."

"Ah, yes, the lass here is lookin' for someone," Brynjolf explained. He turned to me. "The old man, eh? It seems that everyone coming into Riften this month is lookin' for him. You held up your end of the bargain, lass, so I'll hold up mine. The old man, Ezzer, or somethin' like that, is -"

"Bryn! It's good to see you again," a familiar voice called. Delphine, Lucius, and an old man – likely the target – walked into the room. Delphine smiled and 'Bryn' laughed happily in response. "How long has it been?"

"Only a short decade or two," Brynjolf replied. He walked up to the trio I was hunting and hugged Delphine. "It's good to see you again, Phina."

"Please, Bryn, you know I hated that nickname," the Breton replied good-naturedly. She turned around. "You two go ahead – Bryn and I have some catching up to do."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Lucius hissed before leading Esbern off. I leered at him and the escaping Blade, but remained where I was. Delphine most likely knew I had the strength to murder her and all the Thieves present if she revealed me, but I also could not turn old friends against one another, not on such short notice.

"Hm... Sorry, Lass," Brynjolf said to me as Esbern and Lucius walked away. "Seems the Old Man's out of hiding. Here's the gold, though." He dropped a coin purse into my hand.

"What have you been up to, Phina?" Brynjolf began, and I knew that I was no longer of import. I narrowed my eyes to glare at the Blade, who smirked back.

"Oh, going legit. I own an inn in Riverwood," she replied.

"I'll have some men mark it as off limits," Brynjolf offered, earning a smile of gratitude from the Blade. "It's no trouble, Phina."

"Thank you. I need to go, though. Return to my inn," she said, hugging her friend tightly once again. "Good luck with your would be thief, Bryn." She smirked at me again, and turned on her heel to leave me stewing in impotent rage.


	16. Battle of Whiterun II:Vampire Rising

_**Eleven Months Later...**_

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

While Esbern and Delphine carefully went through any and all of Esbern's ancient tomes on the Blades and their Akaviri predecessors for our next move regarding the dragons, I had decided to attend to duties I had long since ignored. In the past eleven months, I had been a central part of the Imperial war movement. We had conquered areas ranging from Dawnstar and Winterhold all the way south to Riften. It was time for me to aid Jarl Balgruuf and the Empire in reclaiming that which had been taken from them. Whiterun was the penultimate step towards leaving Ulfric powerless and broken at the feet of the Empire, paying for his treason. I had no doubt that Talos and the Divines would have mercy on his soul, but in a world with the Thalmor, the Empire could not afford that same mercy.

I crouched with Hadvar, my housecarl from Solitude, and Rikke, our small, covert group discussing the coming battle. I pulled up on my ebony gauntlet, trying to fix an itch. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again – having the four of us invade this city by ourselves is far from the choice I would have made."

"Oh, shut it, Luc," Hadvar said. "We're the three best Legates in Tullius' legion. If anyone can do it..."

I shook my head. "Well, at least none of you are wearing Legion armor," I sighed. Hadvar was dressed in a set of plain steel armor – he said he didn't feel at home in anything else – and Rikke was dressed head to toe with advanced steel armor that obscured her identity completely. My housecarl, a Nord woman by the name of Jordis Sword-Maiden, was wearing an old set of Orcish armor that I had forged. "But it still won't be easy for the three of us to go in unnoticed."

"Yes, well, the Dragonborn seems to draw a crowd no matter where he goes, eh?" Hadvar drawled. "It's almost like people can feel the Dragon-blood within you."

The Legionnaire was not far off. Even obscured completely in my ebony armor, I was easily recognized. My height was not too far off from an above average Nord or Altmer, but I was still easily recognized in any town I came upon. The Legionnaire Dovahkiin. It was becoming especially hard to avoid the Thalmor, whom Elenwen was sending after me in mind boggling numbers. It seemed that she was desperate to destroy me and the good I was doing for the Empire. Somehow, my title as Atmoran had also become widely known; the Dominion would soon try to find their way to me once more. "Clavicus Vile's Masque should help me talk people down. And if it doesn't... Well, let's hope the ones who do recognize me are desperate for Balgruuf's return."

"Aye," Rikke grunted. She raised her voice slightly. "Now remember, while Hadvar and I go to the main gate as travelers to spread the word to the Battle-Borns and their allies, you and Jordis will sneak in through the tunnel Balgruuf told us about. Wait for us to tell you when to attack. Once you do take Dragonsreach, you are to set the signal. The Empire will attack from without while Balgruuf's loyalists take to the streets within. The Stormcloaks remaining will have no choice but to surrender or flee."

"And what of Vignar?" Jordis asked.

"The General and Elder Council have already decreed that Vignar's head will adorn a pike next to Ulfric's on the Imperial Prison in the Capital," Rikke responded. She stared at us three, and I knew she was done answering questions. Then: "Go. Divines guide you."

"Talos guide you," I replied while placing one gauntlet over my heart. Rikke nodded, and our group split up.

"Are you okay?" Jordis asked me. I sighed heavily and immediately wished I hadn't – adventuring breath in the enclosed helmet was as bad as the Oblivion cursed Daedra who had made the armor. "I know that this is..."

"Personal?" I asked. I turned my horned visage towards my housecarl. "You know that I take great care in ensuring you survive? That you are my friend, not just my housecarl?"

"Aye," Jordis said as we approached the entrance that led into Whiterun directly beneath what Jarl Balgruuf had called '_The Underforge_.' He had assured us the Companions, while officially a neutral party with little interest in the war, would not mind the allies of a friend sneaking in through the Skyforge.

"Lydia was one of my first allies in this frozen land," I explained. The cave opened before us, hidden as it was behind a twisting path of rocks that, from afar, looked to be built into the city wall. "I trusted her with my life, and she entrusted hers to me. I failed her in that regard. If I had been present, I could have prevented all of this."

"It is because of you that many in Skyrim even know that Ulfric is an Aldmeri asset. He may not believe it, he may deny it, but the truth is out there for all to ponder," Jordis said, trying to bolster my spirits. She was correct, of course. The information I had stolen had been released two months prior, two months after the taking of Riften for the Empire. Winterhold had surrendered almost immediately after the information had been released. Whiterun's false Jarl had not been so quick to see truth, however. "I am sure that Lydia sings and celebrates your victories even now in Shor's Hall."

I nodded. "If any deserved Sovngarde, it is she," I replied. I looked up at the cave and motioned for Jordis to follow me. "Come, our duties await us." Jordis and I crawled through the cave that led under the enchanted, ancient Skyforge and into the city of Whiterun.

When we exited the Underforge behind Jorrvaskr, we were immediately greeted by a terrifying sight. "Is that..?" I began. I couldn't keep going. There were a series of heads on pikes in the middle of the town square, including Proventus' daughter, as well as Olfrid and Idolaf Battle-Born's. I felt my fists quiver in rage. Vignar had murdered Adrianne, a local blacksmith, just for being the daughter of Balgruuf's closest advisor. And the Battle-Borns' deaths made our entire scheme that much more difficult. The man had more connections throughout Whiterun than most others, even within his family. I wasn't sure who was the new head of the Battle-Born clan, but I doubted they were nearly as capable as their predecessor.

Seeing the heads that adorned the square of the Cloud District, I was barely able to hold my rage in. I walked past Jorrvaskr with Magickal lightning jumping between my fingers. I was seeing red, and I was ready to unleash my rage out upon the Stormcloaks responsible for those deaths. For the death of Lydia. Oddly enough, it was the thought of my long dead friend that had calmed me. I couldn't claim vengeance on the Thalmor whore and her Stormcloak pawns if I did not think about this with as much cunning as the bitch herself. I had to follow the plan. Which meant that my righteous vengeance would have to wait. "Let's wait here," I told Jordis, leading her back towards the Underforge to wait for Hadvar and Rikke to tell us all was ready.

_**Jul**_

**Hadvar**

Hadvar and Rikke sat together in the house of Clan Battle-Born, waiting for their host. The building was less magnificent than it had been just a year prior, with much of the family's Imperial art and armaments seized by the occupying Stormcloaks. Spare room in the home was being used to help the now-homeless and jobless loyalist guards hide from traitors and Stormcloaks alike. If the coming revolt succeeded, Hadvar had little doubt that the Battle-Borns would be the most beloved family in Whiterun.

Of course, the success of their plan was still a big _if_. Hadvar knew that any of a thousand things could still go wrong: the Battle-Borns could turn them in for leniency on the ex-guardsmen, or too few of the citizens could revolt. Success depended on the almost _too many_ variables. But it was the most – and only – feasible plan. "I was wondering when you people would show up," a Nord voice rumbled from the doorway. The entrance to the house slammed shut, and the new head of the Battle-Born clan stood to greet the Imperial soldiers.

"Jon Battle-Born. I was wondering _if_ you would show up," Rikke said. She removed her helmet and stared at the one-time pacifist and bard. "After all, Idolaf said you were never one for the War."

"Aye," Jon replied. Rikke studied the man, and noted several scars on his face and arms that looked incredibly fresh. One crossed over the man's eye socket and gave the once jovial man a burning rage behind his eyes. "I was also never one for letting my kin be murdered senselessly."

Rikke was not sure how to respond to that. "Look, we're here because we need your clan's help," Hadvar cut in. "Where's Olfrid?"

Jon looked to the ground, then returned his stony gaze to Hadvar. "Vignar killed him. Idolaf, too," he responded. "Like I said – never one for letting my kin be murdered."

"Are you one for revenge?" Rikke asked.

At that Jon frowned grimly. "Nay. But justice? Of course. What do you have in mind?"

Hadvar responded first. "Your family, I'm sure you know all of the Imperial sympathizers still in the city. We're taking it back, for them," he explained.

Rikke continued, saying, "We need a coordinated uprising within the city. We have a team moving in to collect Vignar now. As soon as they launch a fireball from the balcony, we'll need a mass uprising from the citizenry while the Legion attacks from without."

"Honestly, that sounds like a damn fool plan. But if the Empire is behind it, I suppose I should aid you," Jon explained. "In memory of my fallen father and brother."

"Do you need our aid to spread the word?" Hadvar asked.

"No. But I do need your friends to ensure that Olfina does not die," Jon explained. "I know that she is her uncle's housecarl, now, but she cannot agree with everything he has done."

"I can only tell you that they will try," Hadvar told the man. "But they cannot ensure her safety. If she tries to kill them, they may have no choice."

Jon glared at Hadvar and Rikke for a moment. "I suppose that is the best I can hope for," he sighed, his eyes hollow and conflicted.

"Thank you," Rikke said as she and Hadvar stood to tell Lucius and Jordis that the plan was ready. "We will see you soon, Jon." The two Nords bowed slightly to their host and left the house.

"That was damn foolish, Hadvar," Rikke told the younger man. "A Legate should think more tactically than that."

"He's a man torn between love and duty, Rikke, but he's still a Nord. He knows what he has to do, and even what that might mean for Olfina," Hadvar assured.

"I pray to Talos you are right," Rikke said quietly. "Or all four of us may soon be dead."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I had been ready with ebony sword drawn as soon as the first footsteps approached the Skyforge. I had pulled the first of the two approaching in and aimed my sword directly for their heart, only to stop when I saw Hadvar. I lowered the blade and shook my head. "Sorry," I groaned sheepishly.

"You're lucky that Eorlund isn't here to hear that," Rikke barked as she entered the Underforge.

"Aye, that I am. Is it time for us to attack?" I responded. I felt my fingers twitch with anticipation as I asked this.

"Yes. But Jon Battle-Born, the new head of his Clan, has requested that you try to prevent the death of the current Noble Housecarl, Olfina Gray-Mane," Hadvar said. "He'll help regardless, but he loves her and would appreciate your compassion."

"I'll see, but -"

"If it is unavoidable, it is unavoidable," Rikke interjected. She looked grimly at the ground. "Jon already knows that." Her eyes returned to mine, her stare unyielding. "This is perhaps the most important mission you have undertaken yet, Dragonborn. Are you sure you are up to the task?"

Without answering, I turned to Jordis. "Let's go," I began as I walked away from my peers, "we have a Hold to free."

I led Jordis around the back of Dragonsreach, our sneaking abilities and my enchantments just strong enough to ensure we remained unnoticed. We approached yet another of Jarl Balgruuf's secret tunnels, an exit – or, in this case, entrance – that led into the lower levels of Dragonsreach. It was midday, or thereabouts, which meant that we would have to fight our way through the entire room of Stormcloak allied soldiers and guards to get close to Vignar. And not to even bring up the difficulty capturing and holding the false-Jarl while we gave the signal. Even being the Dragonborn, I knew that odds like that were near suicidal. Even with the _Thu'um_ I had accrued in the past year, I was not sure if my Voice was up to the task.

But I knew that my thirst for Vengeance was more than ready.

I entered Dragonsreach ahead of my Housecarl, assuring myself that I would not lose another friend and ally in the main hall of the castle. My ebony sword slid quietly through the chest of the first Stormcloak guard to get in my way, and Jordis quickly dispatched the soldier standing next to him. I nodded silently and we moved up the stairs. This brought me face to face with someone I was not sure I wished to see again. His eyes widened at the sight of Clavicus Vile's Masque and he came close to screaming, but I grabbed the man and pulled him back. "Don't make a noise, Farengar," I commanded, my voice a low, terrifying growl enhanced by the Magick imbued in the Masque. I removed my hand from the Wizard's mouth, and he stared at me with wide eyes.

"Lucius? Is that you?" he asked, unsure.

"I can't believe you would betray Balgruuf like this," I hissed, my blade ready to cut through the court mage.

"I didn't!" the Secret-Fire whispered back, stopping me from killing him.

"Talk."

"I..." the Wizard sighed. "I was not in the city while the battle occurred, but when I returned, I was brought here to swear fealty to the new Jarl. I thought of not doing it... but there are things here that must be protected."

"The Jarl's children... You've been keeping watch on them?" I inquired quietly.

"Aye... they – there is a force in Whiterun that the Jarls have always prevented from growing out of control. Without their father, or their freedom, the children were forced to draw close to that terrible force to survive. I have been keeping them from descending too deep into that madness," Farengar assured. "Please, you have to understand... I could have warned Vignar about that passage, you know that. But I didn't. Jarl Balgruuf is my friend, and I would never betray him."

I furrowed my brow behind my Masque, then delivered a quick, blunt blow to Farengar's head. The mage fell to the ground with a dull thud, unconscious. "Then I don't want you to be put to death if this goes poorly, friend," I said. I turned to Jordis and motioned for her to enter the main hall with me. I was able to deliver a single Magickal blow to the nearest guard, a strike of Magickal lightning that jumped between four Stormcloaks and left them dead. With Magick, I grabbed the nearest Stormcloak's weapon from the ground and launched it through the air to his allies, impaling three on the two handed blade.

"We're under attack!" the false-Jarl screamed as he drew his blade. The entire room rushed to kill us, including the new Housecarl – Olfina Gray-Mane. The girl was a strong looking woman, who would endanger many with her strength. If it had been just me versus her, I would have easily defeated her. The army at her back, however, made her a much more viable opponent.

I rushed forward, into the fray. My blade carved through the ocean of Stormcloaks and their lackeys, their crimson blood layering into a painting of death and mayhem that the main hall had seen once before that year. The red eventually began to flow into a river that cascaded down the steps and extinguished the flame in the center of the great hall. Burnt flesh and the rare smell of boiling blood began to fill our nostrils. **"VIGNAR!"** I screamed. "**YOU ARE UNDER ARREST BY ORDER OF THE EMPIRE AND JARL BALGRUUF**!" I heard a laugh echo across the battlefield from Vignar. He wasn't going to surrender, it seemed.

The battle continued, with Olfina and Vignar staying off to the side. The two slowly became more and more worried as the battle dragged on. Jordis and I were completely fine, whereas the Stormcloaks and traitors dead around us were not. My boots began to stick tot he ground, sinking into the volume of blood. As another wave of Stormcloak traitors rushed Jordis and I, I decided that I had dealt with enough of this. "_IIZ-SLEN-NUS!"_ I shouted, my breath taking the form of a physical blizzard. The blue-white air rushed through the air to freeze the very bones of my enemies. Soon, the second wave of attacking Stormcloaks were little more than Stormsicles. The blood beneath my feet became red ice, and the dead bodies became frozen over in their own fluids.

"Vignar!" I screamed again. The man narrowed his eyes that seemed to glow orange, and approached me.

"Uncle!" Olfina shouted. She rushed forward to me in a vain attempt to save her kin.

"Admirable," I said as I deflected her clumsy attack and slashed through her left forearm. I cauterized the wound with a gout of fire. "But foolish." I slammed my fist into the woman's head and she slumped to the bloody ground.

"Can I not see the man who would claim my life?" the false Jarl asked. I complied. I tore the Masque from my head and tossed it to Jordis, who was still marveling at my strength. "Lucius Atmoran. You chose the wrong side for one who hates the Thalmor."

"Then you are a shortsighted fool," I replied as I pulled my mage's hood onto my head. "Surrender now and you may live to see tomorrow, if not the next year."

"Never," the man said. His eyes flashed gold again, and he darkened to a blood red. The false Jarl's body contorted in pain as his skin seemed to liquefy and fall from his bones, which were shifting and reshaping themselves. I watched with morbid curiosity as his body erupted back into being, a maw of sharp teeth and thin, tattered wings erupted from his back. The Vampire shrieked at me and rushed forward to kill me.

I ducked beneath the first powerful swing of Vignar's claws, but was sent sprawling by the second. I sat, dazed, on the wall for a moment. I barely regained sense in time to dodge the incoming explosion of red Magicka. "You are a threat to our plans!" the Vampire hissed, Vignar's voice erupting from its hideous, bat-like face.

"I get that a lot," I responded before launching a fireball at the creature. Vignar took the brunt of the blast and rushed towards me on leathery wings. I rolled beneath the next swipe of his claws and slashed my blade through his side. The creature screamed in pain as I rolled to my feet once more. I looked at the creature, now insane with rage, and waited for it to rush towards me. As the Vampire approached, I twirled my ebony blade through the air and Vignar's terrifying visage rolled across the ground.

"Jordis, stay with Farengar and Olfina," I commanded. I grabbed the Vampiric skull and ran up the stairs of Dragonsreach to deliver the signal. And to expose Vignar for what he was before any lives were lost.

_**Jul**_

**Hadvar**

Hadvar was milling about the square of the Cloud District with the other fifty or so civilians stationed with him. Alongside those fighters stood many disguised former members of the Whiterun guard force. "Look! Up there!" Ulfberth shouted, gazing in pain past the severed head of his wife. Hadvar followed the man's gaze to the fireball soaring through the sky above the city. Civilians, soldiers, Loyalists, and Stormcloak alike gazed up at the burning Magicka. And suddenly, it exploded. With that explosion, Oblivion began to break loose. Civilians and ex-guards drew the weapons that Ulfberth had armed them with and took to fighting against their oppressors.

Hadvar cut down a Stormcloak soldier and bashed his shield into the skull of a traitorous Whiterun citizen. "For the Empire! For Whiterun!" Hadvar screamed. He deflected the blow of a Stormcloak and ran the woman through with his sword. The crowd around him screamed with him, echoing the sentiment. "Whiterun!" and "Empire" rang over the cacophony of battle.

"What in Talos' name is he doing!?" a Stormcloak aligned priest screamed. He was largely ignored.

But the shout that came next, that shook the foundations of Nirn itself, was not. "_FUS-RO-DAH!_" Lucius screamed, staggering all in the melee below and drawing the attention of an entire city to him. "Listen well, Whiterun. Surrender now. Your false Jarl has been deposed, and his _true_ nature revealed!" Lucius raised a gray shape in his hand. "_FEIM!"_ Lucius, now pale blue, jumped from the balcony of Dragonsreach and landed unharmed on the ground.

"Behold, your Jarl..." Lucius demanded. He tossed the gray shape into the center of the square as he approached, and there was a hush that ran through the crowd.

"You're lying!" a voice screamed. "Imperial Bastard!" came another.

"No," Lucius snapped, forcing the entire city into silence again. "Vignar Gray-Mane was a Vampire, whose brutality is best seen here! In your own city!" Lucius gestured up at the pikes of the Battle-Borns and Adrienne. "Adrienne was killed because of her father's loyalties! The Battle-Borns for not bending knee! The Empire allowed all the fallen Jarls and their kin to run for Windhelm! But Vignar murdered any who opposed him. Surrender, you have nothing to fight for."

There was a ripple that flowed through Whiterun as this was said. "I have no wish to see my family die, Dragonborn," Eorlund Gray-Mane, de facto leader of the rebels in the city, said, defeated. "My family surrenders, then. I urge all to do the same." Eorlund turned to stare at the Skyforge and his shoulders fell. The other rebels around him seemed to do the same.

"Well, that turned out better than we could have hoped," Hadvar said, surveying the lack of death around him.

Lucius glanced up at Dragonsreach. "Aye," he groaned. "Aye." The Dragonborn turned from his friend and half-staggered up towards the scene of death he had just left.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The Vampire Vignar had screamed that I was in the way of plans. Ulfric, last I met him, was not a hideous Vampire bent on annihilating his people. If anything, the man was incredibly moral. I had little faith that Ulfric was the one who was in control of Vignar. No, I was sure that something much more sinister was at play. However, as I had a Civil War and Dragon War to deal with, that would have to wait. Still, I knew that this couldn't wait.

Across the country, another man was already way ahead of me.


	17. Throat of the World:Elder Knowledge

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I had abandoned the Stormcloaks ages ago, confident in the knowledge that they were completely doomed. Lucius was, despite the best efforts of both Elenwen and Ulfric, demolishing the rebellion. Whiterun – the city I had taken! – had even fallen back to the Imperial legion. Honestly, it was as if the dirty humans couldn't even prevent a coup within a single city's walls. The strength of Lucius and his allies did not bode well for the Dominion, either. I did not fear the man – I was _Dragonborn_ after all. No, but I was... I was apprehensive. No fight had given me even the slightest challenge in the past year, save the one with Lucius Atmoran.

But that was not the task that occupied my attention at that moment. I was sitting with the Graybeards, who had decided I was deserving of meeting their leader. "This Paarthurnax? He is the leader of the Greybeards?"

"For millennia," Arngeir said, confusing me further. The Greybeards were a human group, and even the oldest human could only live for a century at most.

"How is that possible, though, Master Arngeir?" I inquired, still hungry for relevant information to place into my reports. Reports that I now handed off directly to a courier to the Dominion. Elenwen's fate was sealed, and her death would rapidly approach as a result of her ever compounding list of failures. The information that Lucius Atmoran had stolen had been released, revealing the link between Ulfric and my people. The Nord was crippled by the revelation, though he publicly denied it. Before I had left, I had seen Ulfric's pain at the knowledge that he was a pawn. Galmar was the only thing keeping the Jarl from surrendering to the Empire at any moment.

"You will understand when you meet him," Arngeir assured. "Trust in the Clear Skies shout – your Thu'um is strong, Dragonborn."

I smiled humbly, thought I wanted to tear the dirty human's cryptic head off. "Of course, Master," I said with a bow before chanting the words and beginning my trek up the mountain. "_Lok-Vah-Koor!_" A blue tint overcame the blizzarding sky and the snow around me seemed to suddenly stop, hanging in the air. Sun began to shine through the cloud cover of the sky, and I stared in awe. The power of the Dragon language never ceased to amaze me.

"Good luck, Dragonborn," Arngeir shouted as I continued up the mountain.

Honestly, walking up the mountain was incredibly boring. I killed an Ice Wraith and used the Clear Skies shout so many times I hoped to never use it again. What happened when I reached the summit, however, was surprising and disturbing in turns.

"Greetings, Dovahkiin," the ancient, ragged dragon laughed as I approached the worn word wall. The creature crashed down to the top of the wall and stared down at me. I stood still, wondering when the creature's fire breath would sear the flesh from my bones. Instead, the dragon laughed. "Krosis – Pardon, Dragonborn. I suppose this means my kiibokaar – acolytes – did not tell you the truth. They are sometimes over protective, Dovahkiin."

"Wait... Y-you are Paarthurnax?" I asked of the dragon, backing away slowly but still moving my hands from the twin glass blades at my hips. I glanced at the claws on the dragon's feet and wondered if my glass armor would be able to stand up to the force and pressure that would be behind them if push came to shove.

"Of course," the dragon laughed. He jumped down from the wall, surprisingly agile for a creature of his size, and slid across the snowy peak. _"Drem._ Patience. There are formalities that must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the _dov._ By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my _Thu'um!_ Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are _Dovahkiin!_ "

The dragon turned to the word wall and shrieked in his language, burning a word into the wall. "Toor."

I turned to the dragon as soon as the knowledge of the word flooded into my being. "_Yol-Toor!_" I shouted, the breath of my lungs igniting with Magick and colliding with the ancient dragon. Despite looking as if it could have killed anything, the fire merely caused the dragon to laugh heartily.

"Ah, it has been too long since I tasted the voice of another _Dov!"_ he laughed. His head rose to the sky. _"Bormah_ _nox_ _hi!"_ Smoke rose from the dragon's nostrils and a loud roar echoed from his throat.

Paarthurnax laughed and returned his gaze to me. "But I doubt you are here for _tinvaak_ with an old _Dovah._ You really came to learn what your brother already does," Paarthurnax said knowingly.

"M-my what?" I asked, angry that he would suggest I was connected to a... a _human_.

"Ah, you do not see yourself and him as _ragnavir_ – family," Paarthurnax said. His massive neck arched downward to stare me in the eye. "Though, I doubt it is because he is the _riil_ – the monster as you have described him, hm?"

"I – what do you mean?" I asked, my hands returning to the hilts of my blades.

_"__Krosis,_ calm yourself, _Dovahkiin,"_ the dragon rumbled. He leaped lithely back onto the word wall and turned his head to the sky. "I doubt that he does not feel it, as well."

"What do you mean?!" I asked, becoming frustrated at how the Greybeards and their leader spoke answers without actually clarifying their meaning or intent. The dragon just laughed. "Answer me!"

"Little Dov, do not threaten your elders," the dragon snarled, the image of his terrifying, murderous brethren shining through his dark eyes. Then, it seemed to disappear, replaced by the weary dragon once again. "_Dov wahlaan fah rel_. We were made to dominate. The will to power is in our blood. You feel it in yourself, no, as you speak to the _Fahiil_? You have little patience to take the orders of others, of lesser beings. Within you burns a desire to bend all of _Bormah_'s creation to _tolaan hin_ – your will."

"I... how do you know of that?" I asked, fear in my throat. My blades were drawn, now, crossed defensively before my body.

"I am a dragon, little one. I am not limited to this mountaintop. I have maintained a _bodein_ – a vigil here, but I have also been watching you and your brother closely," Paarthurnax explain. "_Zun-Haal-Viik!_" I felt my two swords fly from my hands and bury themselves in the ground. Fear gripped my heart as I realized I would soon die. "The oceans of Akatosh's time hold even his first children, but its currents can be seen by our kind. You and he, Lucius, are bound to each other. _Jokaar_. Opposite poles of the _Dovah_ will to power. But that is not why you came, not to know of battles you will soon see. No, you came to understand Alduin."

I barely registered what the dragon was saying. I fought an urge to run as quickly as I could, and decided to bide my time. "W-who is Alduin?"

"Ah, you know nothing that your brother knows. Alduin, the first of first. World-Eater. Or, as he prefers himself, a _Dov_ god-king," Paarthurnax spat angrily. He sighed wistfully and stared up at the sky. "He searches for you and your _jokaar_, the only threat to him in this world. _Bohmar_, Father Akatosh, made you with the blood of mine, and the only creature capable of exerting its own _tolaan_ upon a _Dov_, is a _Dov._"

"So you are saying that... one of us can conquer – enslave – this Alduin?" I asked, part of myself becoming giddy at the prospect of controlling a nearly invincible dragon. I could have power over the entire world, crush all – Mer and Man and Beast – under heel.

"Hm... No," Paarthurnax stated. "Alduin is the World-Eater, perhaps as close a being of _Vus_ can come to our father. He would never be a slave, but he would be killed. Only the _Dovahkiin_ can prevent Alduin's ascension and the doom of all _joore_."

"I can... prevent the end of the world?" I echoed with a smile. A savior had a nice ring to it – one to be extorted for greater power.

"Indeed, little _Dov_," Paarthurnax sighed, fire rushing from his nose and melting the snow under foot. "But, would you? Why?"

I grinned condescendingly. "If I killed a god, then there is none in this world who could stand against me. You said I have the will to power? This would fulfill my will, and prevent the deaths of your little _pets_," I said, sneering. "What must I do to kill your brother?" I collected my blades and sheathed them, finally understanding how weak the dragon before me was. He was a pacifist, dedicated to the defeat of a being more powerful than him, as he was too weak to dream of victory.

"I know not how he was defeated before," Paarthurnax said with barely contained rage, "but he was cast out by the _Zuwuth Dey_ – Elder Scroll. Take that as you will, Little _Dov._" With that, the dragon roared and cast off the shackles of Nirn's gravity to simmer in his rage.

"Thank you, little _fool_," I sneered, then turned around to search for the only place an Elder Scroll could be in this gods-forsaken land – the mage's college.

_**Dovah**_

**Paarthurnax**

The elder dragon, once the favored lieutenant of his bloodthirsty brother, watched from afar as the darker of the two _Dovahkiin_ left his mountain. It was not his duty to decide _how_ the Dragonborn would follow their fate as warrior and savior, so it was also not the duty of the Greybeards to stop advising the woman. They had been tricked into believing lies about Lucius, a fact that saddened Paarthurnax, but he knew was an inevitability. Lucius had failed in the _joore_'s stupid little – the dragon sighed, struggling to bring his emotions back under check. He had struggled for countless millennia to not fall into the darkness of his own lust for power, and he would not fail then. The Greybeards thought themselves wise, but living so far from the people they claimed to watch and – in times of crisis – advise had made them as proud as the _Dov_.

Paarthurnax spat fire from his nostrils and brought himself again towards the wound in time that had cast his brother Eras into the future. The tear in his father's fabric had indeed crafted visions of the future for Paarthurnax to gaze fearfully into. The nature of time's currents was that of intense mutability. A thousand futures might exist until the moment that the future came to pass. Likewise, as soon as a moment passes, a thousand pasts might exist. In too many of the futures did the old, worn dragon see the triumph of Alduin over both _Dovahkiin_. Perhaps, even more terrifyingly, the dragon saw more futures in which the _Fahiil_ would claim dominion over all the _Dov_. In so few did Lucius succeed in preventing the terrible destruction that Alduin or Thera would bring with ultimate power. In the ones where the _Jul_ succeeded... great evils were still present, that much Paarthurnax could see. He found that, despite his belief that the Dragonborn were gifted with the right to do as they willed regardless of morality, he was hoping the human would find him soon.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

The moronic Orsimer present in the Mage's College had been unsure of the location of an Elder Scroll. The place claimed to be the center of Magickal knowledge in Skyrim – perhaps even all of Tamriel – but it seemed that they knew nothing. That's what you get for letting _humans_ practice your arts. Still, the Orsimer had directed me to one who _did _know of the Elder Scrolls. An insane human Wizard living like a hermit in the Oblivion cursed frozen wastes at the farthest northern regions of Skyrim. That insane man had directed me to a Dwemer ruin, begging that I use the Elder Scroll I would find to inscribe information into... a box. Well, it was crazy, but I didn't really have to do anything.

I was walking through the underground world, what the insane Wizard had called "Blackreach," that existed _beneath_ the buried Dwemer ruins. I had to have been miles below the surface of Nirn as I walked through the Falmer infested ruins of what was once, probably, a huge trading center between the countless Dwemer cities that graced the human-infested area of Skyrim. It was all that was left of what was once a powerful, proud race of Mer that challenged the pests that had overtaken the surface.

I pulled one of my blades from the throat of a blind Falmer and laughed as it gurgled helplessly in its high pitched, whining cry. I was standing atop the buildings of Blackreach, killing the ever thinning horde of Falmer and their human slaves that attacked. I buried my blade in the chest of a Redguard woman running towards me then punched my fist straight through the heart of a nearby Breton. I pulled both from the corpses I had just created and watched the remaining Falmer and slaves huddle together at the edge of the roof, in front of a huge, golden light that was hanging from the cave ceiling. I grinned and sheathed my weaponry. "_FUS-RO-DAH!_" I screamed, the green energy flinging the group of enemies to their grisly deaths.

As the last of the slaves flew from the roof, a clear, ringing pan echoed through the cavern. The noise filled me with a feeling of morbid curiosity and a single pang of dread. A familiar roar echoed through the cavern, and I was suddenly thrown from the building by a huge claw. I barely screamed the Shout in time to turn ethereal and hit the ground unharmed. My body still rolled across the wet stone of the cavern and collided with a large, glowing mushroom moments before the Shout's Magick wore off. "Dammit!" I screamed as the roar came again. I turned my head towards the source of the sound, and almost missed a black shiver run through the air above me. Fire rained down from the cavernous roof and I narrowly jumped out of the way. "A dragon underground!?" I pulled my bow from my back and looked to the sky – or, more literally, ceiling. I began to fire arrows semi-manically at any shimmer I saw in the pitch black of the cavern, each arrow only crashing down to the earth once again. Eventually, however, a single arrow met its mark.

The dragon roared in pain and its massive form crashed downwards to the ground. The entire cavern shuddered from the intense impact, and huge mounds of fractured stone collided with me and sent me stumbling. "_Joor, hi krilon!?_" the dragon screamed as it extricated itself from the crater that its body had created.

I dropped my glass bow and pulled my blades from my hips. "Oh, indeed. The _Dovahkiin_ dares, dragon," I sneered. Then I rushed forward towards the semi-terrified dragon, who began uselessly flapping its torn wings. I rolled around a fire blast that the dragon unleashed at the last minute and laughed wildly as I copied the deathblow Lucius had inflicted on that dragon more than a year ago. I buried my twin blades through the eyes of the dragon and into its brain, causing the creature to shriek in horrid pain that reverberated off of the stone. The dragon's soul began to leak from its eyes, and the flesh of the creature disintegrated even as the ancient creature screamed in more pain. As its head was left fleshless, the screams of death ceased and an eerie silence came over the cavern.

I pulled my blades from the skull of the dead dragon and turned towards the Tower of Mzark. The dragon's soul flooded like a great warmth into my body and I felt the nebulous energy of its knowledge, as well as the physical strength of the dragon, run through my mind and veins to repair any damage and to unlock the ancient, dead knowledge of the dragon language. Once I absorbed the soul of Alduin Dragon-King, I would be unstoppable. But that dragon's soul was a fine appetizer.


	18. Alduin's Bane:Dragonrend

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stood with Delphine and Esbern before the haunting, stone carving of a serious face. The arched, severe brow cast deep shadows over the sockets of the eyes and the face of the man was pursed into a disappointed, commanding scowl. He looked... familiar. "Reman Cyrodiil," Esbern finally said. "Look how the Akaviri venerated him! Venerated _all_ Dragonborn!" The old man walked forward, marvelling at every feature on the carved face. His hands traced across the visage for some time. Eventually, he turned back and stopped at a carving on the ground.

"I know that face: you've seen something that astounds you. What is it?" Delphine asked. She walked over to the old man, leaving me standing awkwardly watching what felt a lot like a woman and her dad studying magic.

"It – it's amazing, Delphine," the old man said, his hoarse voice barely a croak in the otherwise silent room. "A blood seal. They were commonplace millennia ago, before the rise of Tiber Septim, but now... this could be the only one left in all of Tamriel. All of Nirn, if Akavir is as dead as many believe."

"Um, what's a blood seal?" I asked. "Besides a seal that acts upon blood."

"I am surprised one so learned in magickal theory and application would not know," Esbern said, turning towards me with a half-disappointed glance. "It is a Magick that is directed towards a very specific Divine Magick. One that flows in _your_ blood, Dragonborn."

"So it was built for him to open?" Delphine asked as I neared. She grabbed my wrist and drew a blade from her hip. Before I could stop her, she ran the blade across my exposed cheek. Blood flowed from the wound and dripped onto the seal.

"Warn me next time!" I commanded. I summoned restorative Magicka to my hand and the wound on my face stitched itself closed, leaving a faded scar. As I was about to continue yelling at Delphine for cutting my face with a knife, I was stopped by the sound of stone scratching against stone. I looked down to see that the small amount of blood that had landed on the blood seal had somehow managed to flood the grooves. Stone began to spin quickly into shape, the grooves taking on the shape of a blood soaked dragon, the Akaviri symbol for me. For _Dovahkiin_.

"After you, Dragonborn," Esbern said, half-laughing as he gestured towards the hallway which had just recently been blocked by Reman Cyrodiil's face.

"He was still guarding his home. Wow, the Akaviri weren't ones for subtlety, were they?" I asked as I passed under the gaze of Reman and walked up the stairs to Sky Haven Temple.

"They were a warrior people, Dragonborn," Esbern said reverently as he passed beneath Reman's gaze. "Would you expect different from the Nords?"

"Ha, suppose not," I replied, ascending the steps with saber drawn and a fireball ready to fly from my hand. "Magick and trickery are frowned upon, after all."

"Aye, Dragonborn, that they are," Delphine agreed.

Finally, we reached the top of the long, dark stairway. Esbern took his torch and lit a sconce near the entry, then another, soon shedding light on the mysterious, terrifying "Alduin's Wall." "Gods..." I breathed. "Is that it?"

"Aye," Esbern whispered, just as awestruck as I was. More, perhaps. "Part history, part prophecy." The old man's hands drifted across the intricate carvings, his shoulders shaking with amazement.

"What does it say?" Delphine asked, snapping the old man from his reverent, focused state.

"Ah, yes. Pressing concerns," Esbern noted. "Of course. Let's see... Here, the beginning. The ancient Dragon War. Look upon the cruelty of Alduin and his kin, tearing across the land and destroying all hope. Across the wall stands the Akaviri, raising their blades in defense and glory of the Last Dragonborn who fights Alduin at the End of Time. Defending the world and its peoples even as they fall around him. The events that lead into the return of Alduin – When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world; when the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped; when the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles; when the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls; When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding: The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn." Esbern turned to me.

"The events surrounding the end of the third Era. Jagar Tharn's coup, the Dragon Break, the Nerevarine, the Hero of Kvatch and Oblivion Crisis. Ha! Delphine, you were right. The Thalmor, by starting the Civil War, ended up causing the Dragons!" I exclaimed, half-entertained by the notion in such a dark time.

"I usually am right about those damnable Thalmor," Delphine replied, a ghost of a chuckle running through her voice. "But, Esbern, is there a way to stop it?"

Esbern sighed and returned to the wall. "Here," he said, gesturing to the middle of the wall. "Here we see the _Tongues_, the ancient wielders of the Voice first blessed by Kynareth, or Kyne as she was known in that time. Alduin was cast into the drifts of time by the Tongues. Here they are, _shouting_ him to his first defeat."

"Dammit!" Delphine hissed.

"What?" I asked, my blade ready for a fight.

"Ugh, it's a Shout. An ancient Shout, then," she began. She sighed. "And I only know of one group that can help us now."

I shook my head. "The Greybeards."

"I doubt they'll help," she spat. "They're too afraid of power, of doing anything to help."

"They are still our last hope, Delphine," Esbern explained. "Surely even they would not doom the world."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"No. You have tied your fate to that of the Blades," Arngeir snapped. "They would have you learn a weapon that, in the hands of one as heartless as yourself, could create a monster."

"I need this to save the world, Master Arngeir," I said, trying to remain calm in the face of the old man's stubborn foolishness. What could he have meant by one as 'heartless as myself?' "You and the Blades need to stop with this... this feud that you both hold so vehemently."

"They lead the Dragonborn from the path of the Voice, Lucius," Arngeir snapped. "As they misled Talos of Atmora, so they mislead you."

"This doesn't matter right now!" I snarled back at the man. "You say you want to lead me, help me, but you aren't willing _right now_."

"_Krosis_..." one of the other Greybeards whispered, causing the mountain to rumble from the sheer power of his thu'um.

"It's fine, Master Wulfgar," I told the other old man, who smiled at me. I looked over at Arngeir, whose brows were set in an angry 'V.' "Are you ready to help me save the world, or are you going to just let it fall apart?"

"You not needed here, _Dovahkiin_," Arngeir whispered. "Your counterpart has it under control."

"Who – wait, you mean Thera, don't you?" I asked, incredulously. "She is a Thalmor. Whatever she told you, don't believe it, please. She is using you, Master Arngeir."

"The only one I see attempting to use us is you – and your Blade allies," Arngeir retorted. I shook my head, sighing, and began to walk away. I'd have to find another way to stop Alduin. As I left, Wulfgar whispered to Arngeir once more, shaking the world. "No, he will not learn from us again, Wulfgar. We have already crowned our _Ysmir."_

"_Dreh ni lorfonaar wah uth dovah,_ Arngeir!" a deep, rumbling voice screamed from without the monastery.

Arngeir palled. "Paarthunax..." he whispered. He, and the other Greybeards, ran from their home to the back courtyard, each chanting quietly in the Dragon language. I knit my brow, and followed the three outside.

At the sight of the ancient dragon that the Greybeards bowed to, I immediately drew my blade. The dragon... laughed. "Ah, _unslaad krosis_, _Dovahkiin_," the dragon said, asking for forgiveness. "Somehow, I often forget that what I am disagrees with who I am. Greetings, Dragonborn, I am Paarthurnax."

I slowly let my blade drift towards the ground. This dragon, this... this ancient, terrible being was the leader of the Greybeards? "I... _Drem yol lok_, Master," I said, bowing slightly. My grip on my sword's hilt was, however, still white knuckled.

"It is good you respond as such, _Dovahkiin_," Paarthurnax said, chuckling quietly. "I see I will not have to be as rough with you as I was with the_ Fahiil_."

"So you've met the Thalmor, eh?" I asked. I glanced over my shoulder at the incredulous Arngeir.

"She is... not as my students described her," Paarthurnax replied, glancing amusedly at Arngeir. He turned back to me. "I hope that you are also not as my students describe." The dragon's eyes twinkled knowingly.

"I could not be more sure of that," I replied, smiling back at the dragon.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I had the crushing weight of the Elder Scroll strapped across my back as I ascended the Throat of the World. The Greybeards had seemed more agitated than normal, but they did not explain. They said, merely, that Paarthurnax was awaiting me and they could say little beyond that. I was worried the dragon was going to try and kill me in an attempt to curry favor with Alduin. Still, however, I ascended the mountain, sure in my belief that I could kill the dragon if the need arose and that I could claim Alduin's power as my own in due time.

What I found at the peak of the mountain, however, was something far beyond what I had expected. My twin sabers faltered in my grip for a moment as I was greeted by the sight of an ebony clad Lucius Atmoran. "Hello, Thalmor," the human growled. There was a creak as his grip on either armored bicep tightened with rage.

"Human," I spat, carefully containing my fear. The mage hood on Lucius' head rippled in the wind as he glared venomously at me. I looked up at the dragon. "You did not say that vermin would be joining us, Paarthurnax."

"Do not tempt me to destroy you, little _Dov_," Paarthurnax growled, turning my superior Mer blood to ice. "Not when so much is saddled on the shoulders of you two _Jokaar_."

"We don't need her," Lucius snarled, his eyes casting hate-filled fires towards me.

"_Krosis_, Lucius, but you do. The prophecies that were given to Alessia, then Reman Cyrodiil after her, and Tiber Septim even after state that the Dragonborn can defeat Alduin. _Bormah_ – Father-Akatosh – sent two _Dovahkiin_ to stand against his first child. Our father does nothing without a reason, _Dovahkiin_," Paarthurnax explained, first to Lucius but soon to the both of us. "As much as you two are _Jokaar_, you are the same. The powers and duties of the _Dov_ fall to you, even the responsibilities for our long-lived sins."

"That's why you teach the Way of the Voice, isn't it?" Lucius asked the dragon. His crossed arms fell to his sides and he stared up in... a sort of admiration one has for a teacher. "You want the Dragonborn to be ready to fix what the dragons have caused."

"_Krosis. _Placing my sins upon you is selfish," Paarthurnax said, bowing on his perch to Lucius. "But it is prudent. You were chosen by _Bormah_ to defeat my brother. I was not."

"That's nice and all, but how do I read the Elder Scroll so I _can_ kill Alduin?" I asked, annoyed with how Paarthurnax and Lucius were falling deeper and deeper into a moronic philosophical conversation. "The longer we wait, the harder it will be to tear the power from him."

Paarthurnax growled at me in response, smoke drifting from his nostrils and melting the snow that fell around him. "You have the _Kel_?" he asked a moment later, staring at the heavy item on my back. "Both of you, do you know why I remain at this _strunmah_ – mountain?"

"Because dragons like mountains?" Lucius asked, bemused.

Paarthurnax laughed dryly. "Aye, perhaps. But I remember what many – all, perhaps – have forgotten. On this spot, countless millennia ago, I was spectator to the greatest battle in the history of _Taazokaan_. Here, the ancient Tongues, my first students, used their shout to tear Alduin down. They made him _joore – _mortal, if but for a moment. And then, using the _Kel_, they cast him through time. I maintained my vigil here, knowing that, one day, my brother and_ paal_ would return to wreak havoc upon _Vus_ once more. Even now one can see the place where _Kel vaaz tiid_. Where the Scroll of my father tore open a wound in his flesh." The dragon's head nodded over to a shimmering, broken spot on the mountain.

"A tear in time," Lucius echoed, walking slowly over to the shimmering wound in reality. "The Scrolls are... not bound to a single future or past. But this wound will show us what was, perhaps even what may be..."

Lucius turned to me. "As much as I hate to ally myself with _you_," he snarled, "it seems a necessity. Bring the Scroll."

"Do not presume to command the superior race, _human_," I snarled back as I approached the wound in time. "It is unfitting for a slave to believe he carries authority."

_**Merethic Era – Fahiil**_

**Thera**

The events long past played out before us in a delightful dance of gore, the humans revolting against the dragons falling by the thousands. It was a power I could soon expect as mine own. I did have to admit, however, that the strength of these ancient Nord heroes – these 'Tongues' – was truly a terrifying sight to behold. The woman of the trio – Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, as she was called – laughed as she buried the saber of her blade deep into the skull of a dragon. Her blonde hair swayed, mixed deep with the crimson of blood as she attacked the dragon. "Know that Gormlaith sent you down to your death!" she screamed. She laughed and turned to her peers. "Hakon! A glorious day, is it not!?"

The other human, a burly Nord who somehow had become a weakling and lost the taste for blood, replied. "Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade?" he asked, half-disappointed.

Gormlaith – quickly shaping up to be my personal favorite of the two, replied with a hearty laugh. Were she an elf, she would have been perfect. "What else is there?"

Hakon sighed and walked to the edge of the peak. Ignoring what Gormlaith had said, he spoke, "The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost." He crossed his arms and gazed out over the endless expanses of the Dragon War and the rivers of blood it had created. Screams echoed from miles below into our hearing.

Gormlaith smiled at her ally. "You worry too much brother," she said, playfully mocking Hakon. "Victory _will_ be ours."

"Then why does Alduin hang back? We've staked everything on this plan of yours, old man," Hakon said, turning to a third, as-of-yet unseen, member of the Tongues.

The other Tongue, an old man dressed much like the Greybeards and wielding a Greatsword, reassured Hakon and Gormlaith. "He will come. He cannot ignore our defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?"

"We've bloodied him well, Felldir," Gormlaith admitted as Hakon shook his head and walked away to await his enemy. She smiled and I soon admired her strength even more, even though she was a human. "Four of his kin have fallen to my blade alone this day."

"But none have yet stood against Alduin himself. Galthor, Sorri, Birkir..." Felldir fell quiet as he remembered those inferior to him, perhaps in the same sickening way Lucius considered Lydia his 'Friend.'

Gormlaith scoffed at the dead fools. "They did not have _Dragonrend_," she said, naming the ancient shout I needed to take Alduin's strength for myself. "Once we bring him down, I promise I will have his head."

Felldir shook his head. "You do not understand," he lectured the woman. "Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. He... Ugh... He is beyond our strength." The words seemed like poision coming from the Nord's mouth, a bitter admission of weakness in a race that worships strength.

"Which is why," Felldir continued, the bitterness passing from his voice, "I brought the Elder Scroll."

Hakon turned, frightened and angry. "Felldir!" he shouted. "We agreed not to use it!"

"I _never_ agreed," Felldir spat, further revealing the fracturing of the group. His voice then softened. "And if you are right, I will not need it."

"We _will_ deal with Alduin ourselves. Here and now," Hakon stated, as if trying to assure himself.

Gormlaith laughed in excitement. "We shall see soon enough!" she shouted gleefully. "Alduin approaches!"

Hakon sighed as he drew his battle-ax. "So be it."

Alduin flew through the air, somehow the size of a giant with the grace of a hawk. He roared in rage-filled betrayal as he landed upon the word wall at the summit of the mountain. He cursed the three in his language. "_Meyye. Tahrodiis aane. Him hinde pah liiv! Zu'u hin daan!_"

Gormlaith set her feet as she readied her blade. "Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!" she screamed, ready to attack the dragon at any moment.

Then, as one, the Tongues revealed the shout to us. "_Joore Zah Frul!_" The shout echoed through the air, the force of it colliding with Alduin and bringing a blue light emanating from within his scaly body.

The dragon roared in pain and rage as he crashed onto the mountaintop. "_Nivahriin joorre!_ What have you done!?" he screamed in rage. "What twisted Words have you created!? _Tahrodiis _Paarthurnax! My teeth to his neck!" The dragon then seemed to smile. "But first... _dir ko maar..._"

Alduin looked at all three of the Nords around him. "You will die in terror, knowing your final fate..." he threatened before grinning wickedly. "To feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!"

"If I die today, it will not be in terror!" Gormlaith screamed as she attacked Alduin.

She was the first to fall. If she had been Mer, she would have survived. Emerged victorious, even. As it was, her greatest flaw was being of Man's descent. She died quickly at the hand – or maw, rather – of Alduin. "_NO! DAMN YOU!_" Hakon screamed, redoubling his efforts against the king of dragons. Hakon screamed in rage as he attacked Alduin. He partially turned his attention to Felldir. "Use the Scroll, Felldir! Now!"

The old man nodded and dropped his blade to the snow, knowing that if this final attempt to defeat his better were to fail, his death would be assured regardless of the blade. The old man dragged the Elder Scroll from his back and set himself. "Hold, Alduin on the Wing! Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard!" the Nord cried, invoking some false version of the Aedra in a call for aid. "Begone, World-Eater. By words with older bones than your own, we break your perch on this age and send you out!"

Alduin screamed in rage and launched a blast of fire at Felldir. The Scroll in the old man's hands glowed momentarily, and the fire passed harmlessly around the Nord. "You are _banished!_" the old man cried, a dreaded finality passing through his voice. "Alduin, we shout you from all our endings until the last!" Then, suddenly in a flash of green Magick, Alduin was gone. "_**You are banished**_!"

All was quiet for a moment. "Y-you did it," Hakon stated, barely believing it himself. He fell to his knees, panting from the fight that he had narrowly survived.

"Yes, the World-Eater is gone," Felldir agreed. He looked forlornly up at the stars. "But may the spirits have mercy on our souls."

And then, as suddenly as the vision began, it was over.

_**4E 201 – Jul**_

**Lucius**

I blinked away the bright light of Time's passage with tears in my eyes. The Ancient Tongues had sacrificed so much for the freedom I could enjoy. Freedom from Alduin and freedom to make a path in this world that the Dragon-King would have long since destroyed. "Fool humans" the Thalmor bitch stated. "They challenged their superior and paid the price, just as when Man challenge Mer."

I snarled at Thera. "How dare you?" I asked, shoving her. She stumbled through the snow and drew her blades. I drew mine in kind and aimed its tip at her, ready for the inevitable battle that would erupt between us. "They sacrificed _everything!_"

"They were fools. _Los folov fahiil_," a deep, thundering voice said from the sky. Paarthurnax made a half-whimpering noise. "_Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor._ My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, _Dovahkiin_. Perhaps even theirs."

Thera and I glanced up at the black, spiked dragon, then to each other. Together, we looked up at Alduin again, and shouted. "_Joore... Zah Frul!"_


	19. Alduin's Bane:Loose Ends

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The battle with Alduin was the hardest I had experienced, up until that point. The King of Dragons had called down meteoric flames from the sky, causing the blue dome to fog over with a vortex of cloud and smoke. I remembered, with a jolt, that this Shout was the one Alduin had used at the execution. As the twin Dragonrend of Thera and myself collided with Alduin, he shrieked in a rage of recognition. "_Dur kiin do faal Vun!_" Alduin shrieked as the strength in his mighty wings left him and he was sent down to the summit of the mountain. The fires from the sky ceased to exist in time with the death of Alduin's flight. "The Cursed words you have learned, _Dovahkiin_, but still I hold dominion over all _Bormah_ has created!" Alduin roared in my direction and loosed a mighty fire blast from his maw.

I raised a ward in my left hand moments before the fiery explosion had rushed from his jaws, and the Magickal wall forced the fires around me, harmlessly. The blue light of Dragonrend disappeared from Alduin's flesh. "We were given blood by Akatosh as well, monster," I snapped. I rushed forward, brandishing my blade, but it seemed fruitless. Every blow that I loosed against the dragon's scaly hide seemed useless, vain. The assault of my _Jokaar, _as Paarthurnax had called her, ended much the same. Her twin sabers were stymied at every attempt to penetrate the jagged hide of Alduin, the long black scales acting much as defensive steel.

"_Ah, Bormahro fen vis kos qobo vomulhaan, joor_," Alduin retorted. His tail swung through the air and Thera's form suddenly collided with mine, sending the two of us crashing into the nearby word wall. Our crash had been, thank Talos, slowed by the snow. Alduin roared again and took flight. "_Tahrodiis Paarthurnax!_"

I struggled to my feet and collected my blade from where it was buried in the snow. Far above, I heard the roars of two dragons locked in deadly combat. Paarthurnax and his brother tumbled through the sky, their wings locked together and their jaws snapping at each others' necks. "_Hi lost dii Diist! Zin avok pah, dovah uv joor!_" Alduin screamed at Paarthurnax as he knocked the ragged dragon's jaws away from assaulting his throat. He assaulted Paarthurnax with a gust of flame, and the dragon was forced to release his hold on his former king, beating his massive, torn wings to stay afloat. "_Hi grut zey, zeymah!_"

"I betrayed none, Alduin," Paarthurnax retorted. "_Briinah Skar uth dii zin wah jaaril joor._"

Alduin shrieked in rage and flew to collide with his former lieutenant. "_Ruz dir voth niin_!"

"_Joore Zah Frul_!" I shouted, and the blue energy collided with Alduin. He roared and dropped, falling inches below his target of Paarthurnax. He glided, deftly still, down to the Throat of the World once again. "I do not plan to die this day, Alduin."

"Ah, you know our language now, do you?" Alduin asked, the blue energy of Dragonrend still flooding into his body, making him mortal. "It does not change that my teeth will rend you in this world and the next."

"No, my teeth will rend you now!" Thera screamed as she rushed past me, her twin blades glinting in the sunlight. The sabers clattered against the dragon's skin, but not uselessly. The energy of Dragonrend, it seemed, made Alduin's hide a much easier thing to destroy. The blades cut through one jagged point of the dragon king's hide, slicing the jagged scale in two. Alduin shrieked in pain and lashed out with a powerful wing. "I see that, of the two of us, I am the only one who can hurt him!" Thera called as she twirled around the wing.

"Use Dragonrend!" I commanded the Thalmor bitch. The blue energy of Dragonrend was beginning to dissipate. "It's the only way!"

"I take no orders from a Man, fool!" Thera replied. She ignored my advice and continued to assault the dragon with her blades. I grimaced. I knew that my Voice was much stronger, and that my _Thu'um_ would be of much more use against Alduin. However, it seemed that the only way for us to survive – let alone win – was for me to cover both our asses. So I unleashed Dragonrend upon Alduin once more. Besides, I couldn't have Alduin kill the Thalmor bitch – Lydia's vengeance was far from complete.

"_Meyye, duraal Zaan fent ni jaaril hi!_" Alduin mocked before unleashing blast of frost towards Thera. The frozen Magicka hit her, and she stumbled back, frost growing along her metal armor.

"Not alone, perhaps," I replied as I gathered Magicka in my left hand. The purple energy drew my hand forward, and Magickal lightning flew through the air to collide with the ancient dragon. "But I have little doubt that our skills in tandem with it can defeat you." Alduin screeched as the lightning passed through his body, and then turned his attention towards me. Suddenly, my joints were coated with thick ice and I was incapable of moving.

"It would seem my early thoughts were incorrect," he said as he brushed the Thalmor off, again into the word wall. "Truly, _jul_, you are the more dangerous of the _Dovahkiin_. Less arrogant, but still... you have the fire of a dragon without the strength to actually claim that fire. Your soul will be as a feast, Dragonborn."

I struggled against the ice that coated my body as Alduin neared me. _Talos, please!_ I begged, still trying with all my will to shatter the ice around my body. Suddenly, it just happened. The ice shattered and I looked up at Alduin's gaping maw above me. Dragonrend sent him flipping through the air to land on his back. The blue glow of my Thu'um coated the dragon's body and seemed to suck the life from him. I was unprepared for the next swing of his tail that brought Alduin back to his feet and forced me back a few steps. Thera stood next to me – she had disappeared when it had seemed our defeat was inevitable, only to reappear for the glory. "_Meyz mul, Dovahkiin_. You have become strong," Alduin admitted, panting heavily. His beady, black eyes focused on me. "But I am Al-du-in, Firstborn of Akatosh! _Mulaagi zok lot!_ I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you... mortal!" With that, Dragonrend's Magickal flow ended, and Alduin fled.

As I breathed in deep to stop his flight, Paarthurnax stopped me. "No, _Dovahkiin,"_ he began, "he is right. He is no ordinary dragon. The only place you can truly end my brother is in Sovngarde... but I know not where that is, for it was a secret he guarded jealously."

"Then how do we find it?" the Thalmor bitch asked.

Paarthurnax looked between us. "My brother is weakened, now. He will retreat, and place many of his forces at the line to defend Sovngarde. _Nunon dovah vis yah dovah_. Only a _dovah_ can find a _dovah._"

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"Unfortunately, all we can do is wait for Lucius and the Blades to find the correct dragon to summon," Arngeir told me. He sighed. "Paarthurnax has said we misjudged you; we are no fools. Lucius has sought the aid of the blades over the Way of the Voice, unlike you. Save Master Wulfgar, we all advocate staying true to only you, Ysmir."

I put on a fake smile. "Thank you, Master," I said with a bow, drawing a smile from the filthy human. "I admire Paarthurnax, despite how he has been tricked by Lucius. So many in Skyrim have, after all."

"Paarthurnax is incredibly detached from the world below," Arngeir noted. Internally I scoffed at the hypocrisy of the human. But, to err is human. He could not understand what my superior Mer brain clearly saw – the Greybeards were even more detached from their fellows than the dragon was to Men. "But that does not make him any less of a teacher."

"No, it does not," I agreed. Truthfully, waiting bored me. The blood in my body ached for battle, for action. For power. To wait as I was infuriated me to no end. My muscles twitched at every noise, ready to leap into battle and claim dominion over the human weaklings and their draconic superiors.

Just then, the doors of the monastery flew open. "I 've been lookin' for you!" a voice called, drawing my attention. "I've got something I need to deliver to you. Your eyes only." A young Nord walked towards me, clutching a bag between both hands. "Let's see here... Some Wood Elf payed good money for me to place this at the top of my list. 'Ere you go."

I took the item from the Nord and pulled the envelope open. The letter itself seemed to be nothing special, a greeting letter that invited me to a housewarming in Rorikstead. However, the wording itself revealed the true message. _"The failures of your immediate superior have become unforgivable. Kill Elenwen, then enter deep cover. Live with the expectation of no further contact, but the readiness should it come._"

I furrowed my brow. I was being _fired. _Well, it was a sobering notion. Still, though, the Thalmor were giving me severance package. As I had long suspected, Elenwen's many failures regarding Lucius Atmoran had taken a huge toll on her standing with the Aldmeri Council. At this point, murdering Elenwen was a simpler and cleaner job than giving her another chance to redeem herself. As consolation prizes go, it was definitely a delicious one to receive. "I have business to attend to while we await Lucius," I told the Greybeards. I smiled. "I won't be long."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Ah, Lucius, what do you need?" Balgruuf asked as I neared his throne. I knelt down on one knee, bowing to the Jarl. "No, rise. The hero who returned Whiterun to me has no need to bow to me. Rise, hero."

I rose to my feet. "Thank you, my Jarl," I said, smiling. "But, do you think I could have a really large favor should I trade that whole 'no bowing' thing in?"

"You deserve more than one favor, Thane," Balgruuf replied, half smiling.

"You aren't going to say that when you hear the favor I need," I explained.

The Jarl's face darkened. "I already can tell he agrees with that belief," Irileth muttered. "Tell him."

"I need to catch a dragon, and Dragonsreach is the only place in Skyrim one can do that," I explained.

Balgruuf laughed heartily. "Well, at least I can easily answer, Dragonborn. No," Balgruuf said. He sighed and shook his head. "Ask anything else of me."

"There is nothing else -"

"He said no!" Proventus snapped, snapping out of his pained reverie. "The Jarl will not have the hold risk being plunged back into darkness so an ancient, broken trap can be used to capture a fire breathing monster. I will not let the Stormcloaks that killed _my daughter_ reclaim this hold under any circumstance!"

"Proventus!" Balgruuf snapped at his steward. The Imperial turned to Balgruuf with rage filled eyes. "Leave us." Proventus began to object, but Balgruuf raised his hand. "Now."

Proventus turned his wild, angry eyes towards me, but left despite his desire to kill me there. "He is right, Dragonborn. I cannot let this city fall back into Stormcloak hands."

"Alduin has returned," I stated simply, freezing the Jarl.

"What is Alduin?" Irileth asked the Jarl.

"I... The World-Eater, devourer of souls. He... is just a legend," Balgruuf said. "A myth."

"As were dragons," Irileth noted, drawing a look of annoyance from the Jarl. He sighed. She was correct.

"I can't do this unless the war is over. The threat of the Stormcloaks is too great," Balgruuf said. He put his hand on his forehead. "My hands are tied Dragonborn."

"So.. I have to put an end to the war?" I asked. I pursed my lips. "Fine. I'll get Tullius to march on Windhelm."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I pulled myself over the fence of the Thalmor Embassy as the two patrols crossed paths and I became left in a blind spot. I glanced up at the moon – Elenwen was most likely in her study at this hour, plotting and planning on ways to make it up to the Aldmeri Council. Unfortunately for her, the Council had already decided upon her payment for her failures. The dagger at my side was tipped with a deadly poison, one that caused the target to develop the same symptoms as severe rockjoint. Healers would try to treat it, but in the end it would appear that they were unsuccessful; too late, perhaps. Elenwen would die in horrible, mute agony.

I moved silently across the snow covered ground, making sure to not kill any of the guards. A messy kill would only endanger my mission and make the Dominion look weaker as a whole. They fired me, so I didn't really care about that, but I did not want any assassins sent to hunt me down for a mistake. No, better to do well then and claim vengeance against the Council – to claim dominion over the Council – later, when I was ready.

I shook my head and cleared such grandiose thoughts from my mind. If I did not focus on the mission as it was, I would fail. I deftly unlocked the door to Elenwen's study and slid between the frame and the door itself. Silently, I shut the wooden barrier behind me. The building was dark, save for a single flickering light that glowed from Elenwen's study. I carefully moved through the dark halls until I saw her standing alone. Her robes were caked with dirt, and her hair was matted, even coming out in some places. The stress was getting to her. She stared at the documents on the table, muttering to herself. "Northwatch keeps reporting strange goings on in that castle. Vampires. Yes, that sounds right. Perhaps I can cut a deal with them, fake my death and aid them in their... whatever it is they are searching for. The Vigilants have found something in that Cave... yes, 'He keeps babbling about vampires.' That's what the prisoner said!"

Honestly, I had known this woman for nearly forty years. She was strong willed, and could carefully plan out anything so that it would en well for her. Seeing her broken, nearing insanity and a natural death like that was... well, I wanted to let her suffer longer. Leave and just let her die of painful natural causes. But I couldn't risk her surviving, so murdering her it was. The poison I had coated the dagger with was fast acting, and could work even when only a small amount was exposed to the target's system. In layman's terms, this meant all I had to do was make a small cut, one that would not attract the attention of the healers. I crept up behind Elenwen and did the only thing I could think of: I slammed her forehead into the table with enough force to knock her out and make it look like her body had seized up from Rockjoint. As soon as her body thudded to the floor, I drew the poisoned dagger and slashed it across her finger – shallow enough to be thought a cut from parchment, but deep enough for the poison to mix with her blood.

Then I left her for dead. I froze and turned back to her. "This is too easy a death for a failure, Elenwen," I remarked quietly, then I stole away into the night. I climbed over the fence and began running away from the embassy as quietly as I could.

Around two or three miles away, I saw something that made my blood shiver. Carved into a tree were three words. "We know, Thera." The words rested beneath a hand carved into the tree with soot and blade. A Black Hand. My heart quickened, and I looked wildly around the forest surrounding me. They had to be lying in wait, they _had_ to still be there. After a while, I recognized that I would never find the author of the message. No, that would never happen. Instead, the Dark Brotherhood would soon find _me_.


	20. The Fallen:Fall of Windhelm

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Why are you so adamant on this, Legate?" Tullius asked me. His arms were crossed and he stared at me sternly. "I've told you already that our plans regarding Windhelm are not yet complete. I can't have us waste everything on some half-cocked plan that would get my entire legion killed."

"And I'm telling you," I said, glancing between Tullius and Rikke, "that the world is going to end if I don't end the war and get Balgruuf's help. Alduin is the king of the dragons, and he is going to kill _everyone_, not just your legion, not just Skyrim. All of Nirn."

At that, Legate Rikke visibly palled. Her already fair skin took on an almost reflective quality as the blood flooded from her face. "S-sir?" she began, drawing the attention of the general. "I would advise we take the Dragonborn's suggestions into account."

I glanced over at Rikke. She never referred to me as Dragonborn – always 'Legate' or 'Lucius.' She hated the idea that what I was would display some form of favoritism over my allies. And, having had my ass saved by Hadvar on more than one occasion, I was of a mind with her. "Rikke, invading Windhelm now could lead to the decimation of this legion," Tullius sighed. "Perhaps even the rebirth of the Stormcloak movement if our victory is not decisive."

"We always ran that risk, General," Rikke replied firmly. She knit her brow. "Sir, Alduin is an ancient legend of the Nord people. Just like the Dragonborn. Or Ysgramor. And if those exist, if the Dragonborn himself is saying the threat is real, we must do everything in our power to stop it."

"Rikke, I don't deal in myths and legends. I'm a soldier, for Divines' sake," Tullius replied hotly.

"One sworn to defend the Empire," I said. I crossed my arms and glared at the General. "If you don't do this now, there won't be an Empire to protect."

Tullius considered this for a moment, torn between his duty and his trust in us. Finally, he sighed. "I just cannot launch a full scaled invasion of Windhelm right now," he said sadly.

"But -"

"No!" Tullius shouted, causing me to flinch. "I'm not authorizing this."

I looked at the ground, pained. I would have to figure something else out. My bleak thoughts were interrupted, however, by the noise of metal clattering on the table. "Well, I guess you won't be involved then," Rikke said. I looked up to see her steel helmet on the table and her face glaring at the surprised Tullius. "I'm going with him. Even if it is just the two of us, I'm sure we can get in and kill Ulfric."

"You won't get out alive," Tullius noted.

"Then we won't get out alive," I replied firmly. I nodded at the general. "I'll be asking Hadvar to come, as well. Either you'll see one of us soon and know that Ulfric's dead... or..."

Tullius shook his head in defeat. "I'm so sorry that I can't help you," he muttered. He slammed his fist into the table.

"Your duties to the Empire come first, Sir," Rikke stated, standing at attention. "We understand." She extended her arm to the General, who sighed sadly before taking it.

"Just come back safe, soldiers," Tullius said as he let go of Rikke's forearm. He placed both hands on the table and stared at the map. "I wouldn't lose three of my best soldiers in a battle before the real wars even begin."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Windhelm is a magnificent city. "Oldest city in Skyrim!" as every Nord I passed within ten minutes shouted in almost indistinguishable voices. The mood of the city, despite the many defeats that her leader had suffered at the Empire's hands, was palpably joyous. It seemed like the most common belief among the people were that the war itself was merely a setback on Ulfric's path to the High Kingship. There were others who didn't even seem to care, sure that their lot in life wouldn't change at all – the Dunmer, for instance. I hoped that Tullius and the Empire would prove the Dunmer wrong – things can always get better.

"So what's the plan?" Hadvar asked in a hushed tone, our conversation obscured by the noise ever present in the tavern. I frowned and furrowed my brow in exasperation. The steel clad warrior's eyes glowed bright from behind his helm.

"Oh, no," he had insisted when I tried to tell him the plan. "When we were in Whiterun I was so scared I'd loose the plan too early. I don't want to deal with that again, for now. Why don't you just tell me when we get to Windhelm?"

"Everything that we know about the targe leads us to believe that he is... well, he would like to believe he is the center of his own Epic," Rikke began. She folded her hands and glanced around nervously.

"The greatest Epic of the modern age, the _only_ Epic he would care about, would be a terrible battle alone with the Dragonborn," I continued. I sighed and shook my head. "He challenged Torygg to single combat because he represented the Empire and the Accords. I'm hoping I can do the same to... the target and his cause."

"So where do we fit in to this?" Hadvar asked. He smiled kindly at the barmaid as she placed the three meads on our table, then turned back with an even more lowered voice. "It sounds pretty simple."

"Except …" Rikke looked around again, changing her choice of words. "_His_ followers are not likely to merely surrender, despite what promises they give him. Ul – the target may die, but I doubt that will quell the fires in their hearts immediately."

"So we're here to try and make sure you survive," Hadvar said, pointing at me with his mead. He took a big swig, downing the drink in a single try, then shrugged. "Well, I didn't have any plans for surviving the Era. How are we getting out?"

"Well, there's only one way out," I said sheepishly. "The front gate."

"I guess I really _don't_ have any plans to live through the Era," Hadvar grunted. He looked up for the barmaid. "I'll have another... three. No! Four."

_**Jul**_

**Ulfric Stormcloak**

The Jarl had to admit that the Dragonborn was a cocky bastard. Not many, Man, Mer, or otherwise, had the courage to march into his castle – alone much less! – and demand the rites of combat. The Jarl had, of course, been hoping for the Dragonborn to be the one to kill him. The human hero of the Empire; it was as if Talos of Atmora himself was going to do the honors.

In light of how Ulfric had been used by the Altmer... well, it was a good way to repay one's sins, executed by the harbinger of a god. "It's good you're finally here," Ulfric stated, silently urging Galmar to sheathe his weapon. He sighed and stepped down from his throne. "Honestly, Dragonborn, you're late."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"It's good you're finally here," Ulfric drawled as he stepped haughtily down from his throne. He motioned towards his lieutenant and the other man's weapon returned to its resting place. "Honestly, Dragonborn, you're late."

I gripped the ebony sword at my hip, ready for the Stone-Fist to attack me before I could truly even challenge Ulfric Stormcloak. That assault never came, however. "What do you want, _Dovahkiin?_" Ulfric's voice drew my attention back to him. His words crackled with knowledge.

"You already know, don't you?" I asked. I let go of the saber at my hip. "You know why I am here."

Ulfric laughed a single, dry laugh. "You came to kill me."

"What!?" Galmar shouted, drawing his weapon again. He rushed towards me, ready to kill, but the world shook with the thunder of Ulfric's _Thu'um_. Galmar was thrown, unconscious, to the side.

"We can't have him interfering now, can we?" Ulfric asked. Finally, I noticed that, rather than the haughtiness I had expected, his voice was defeated. Broken. The same pain was present in his empty, glazed eyes. "Galmar's a good man, he just doesn't know when his time's done."

"So you believe your time to be done?" I inquired. The question drew a shrug from the once great, proud rebel. "Why?"

Ulfric sighed and stopped as he came close to me. "Why?" He asked. He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes drifting through the roof and towards the sky. "I'm sure you know well enough, Dragonborn. What is a man whose entire life was devoted to his fellows? What about when that man learns his entire existence, his deepest convictions, were tools crafted and weaponized by those he hated most?"

"It's not your fault, Ulfric," I said. I raised my hand towards the Jarl. "I'm sure we can find a way to use this. To destroy the Thalmor."

"No. That is not my story, Dragonborn," Ulfric sighed. He drew his blade and frowned. "I see now that I am not the man that Skyrim so desperately needs. No. I'm sorry, but that honor lies with you, Lucius Atmoran."

I drew my blade and bowed to Ulfric. "I hope I can live up to that task, Jarl Ulfric," I replied. "You do me honor with this battle."

"And you give me even greater honor with this challenge, Dragonborn," Ulfric replied. "Now give me a fight worthy of Sovngarde!"

Our blades quickly crossed, steel sparking against ebony. Ulfric's eyes, I noticed, had regained their fire. He would not surrender so easily. I was the first to exit our first bout. We circled each other, two fighters who knew that one of us would not survive the next engagement. And, true to both our assumptions, we did not cross blades again. I ran towards Ulfric as he ran towards me, both of us running in to slash our blades through the body of the other. As I stepped past him, I flicked my wrist and sent his blade into the air. I gestured with telekinesis at the flying object, and the point of the blade sent itself flying into the would-be King's chest. He fell, dead. I sheathed my blade, saying, "Talos guide you." And the Civil War was over. I remember thinking how anticlimactic it had been, just another in an endless line of battles throughout my life. Quick, efficient, painless. I had expected... I don't know, the appearance of a god!

I looked towards the door on a whim to see an old man in black armor that looked older than the current Era staring at me. He was bald, save for a half-ring of hair that began at either temple and connected on the back of his skull. Blue eyes twinkled from beneath his brow as he stared at me, and I had the feeling that I had seen him before. "Who are you?" I asked.

The figure merely smiled. "You can thank me by being something new," he suggested simply. Then he raised his hand and snapped. I swear still that, under his breath, the man shouted: "_Ginun Kreh Okulom_." Suddenly, I was outside of Solitude with Hadvar and Rikke.

"What in Oblivion!?" Rikke shouted, drawing her blade in fear and surprise. She turned wildly around, searching for... whatever had moved us.

I looked up at the sky as the Legate calmed down. "Who in Talos' name was that?" I asked quietly.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

The rumors flying into Ivarstead were surprising to say the least. Decades of careful planning, murdering, and political upheaval had been wasted before they could reach true fruition. Windhelm, the seat of Ulfric Stormcloak's rebellion, had fallen. Some said that the Dragonborn had marched, alone, into the city and defeated the already broken man in a single stroke of his ebony sword. Others said that he had burned the Palace of Kings to ash with his Magick. Still more claimed that, with a single whisper of his _Thu'um_, the Dragonborn had destroyed the foundation of the city and sent it crumbling to dust. Whatever the truth, I doubted it was any of these hushed rumors of awe.

Still, though, I laughed at the Aldmeri Council. As soon as they received the information on Ulfric's death, they would likely have to issue public congratulations to Titus and his Empire, even attend multiple galas and gift the man with artifacts long since stolen from his homeland. The feeling of the Council's weakness would echo downward through the Thalmor ranks, perhaps even instigate turnover in their ranks. Being as far from Alinor as I was, I wouldn't be able to capitalize on their weakness. Still, it was going to become much easier to take a seat on the Council and take the power I so deserved.

I had been notified by Lucius' new pet – Yordiz, or some unpronounceable Nord nonsense like that – that Lucius would meet me in Ivarstead's pub soon to take me to Whiterun. He likely had to meet again with those moronic _Blades_ to learn which dragon we could use to attack Alduin. The dirty humans would know not to trust me, but I could bend the dragon to my will. Perhaps Lucius would not find himself in that battle with Alduin, so much as waiting for my return. Or – the thought makes me giddy – dead by the dragon's claw in Whiterun.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Esbern stared at me with a furrowed brow. "So you return," he said simply. There was an almost accusatory look in his eyes. "Good. You know Dragonrend, then?"

I nodded. "Yes. And I plan to capture a dragon with it in Whiterun. Do you... know of one who would help us?"

"Why not ask Alduin's old lieutenant?" Esbern spat. "The Greybeards are fools to believe he is no longer controlled by Alduin."

It took a moment for the words to make sense in my mind. "P-Paarthurnax?" I asked, incredulous. I laughed. "He is not with Alduin. He doesn't follow Alduin, much less know where his portal to Sovngarde is!"

"Do not be so easily fooled by dragons, Dragonborn," Esbern retorted. "It is unfitting of one with your blood."

I snarled at the Blade. "Do not take me lightly," I advised the old man. The mountain shook as I spoke. "_Faazrot dovah fen nunon drun yol_."

Esbern, to his credit, did not even flinch at the power standing before him. "There is perhaps a dragon, Dovahkiin. I glanced a name in the records, a dragon whose respect for power overrides any sense of loyalty."

"Who?" I asked, the fire in my eyes letting down somewhat. The old man, despite his foolishness, meant well.

"'Snow-Hunter-Wing,'" Esbern replied. "Odvahiing."

I smiled. "Thank you."

I turned to leave, only to be stopped by Esbern. "Do not return here, Dragonborn, until Paarthurnax is dead. There are ancient crimes he has yet to pay for."

I growled and ran towards the man. "You understand nothing," I said. I growled. "He is an ally."

"Would you be able to trust him in war against the Thalmor?" Esbern retorted. I was silent. "Not so quick to defend the 'pacifist' dragon now, are we?"

I closed my eyes and growled at the Blade, smoke rising from my nostrils and cloaking my head in its rings. "Now is not the time for this, Esbern," I replied angrily. "Are you... adamant in this?"

He nodded. I shook my head. "I... I will think on it," I half-lied. I turned from Sky Haven Temple, back towards the face of Reman and towards my inevitable final battle with Alduin.


	21. The Fallen:Horvutah Dovah

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"So you did it," Balgruuf said as I entered Dragonsreach. He stood up from his throne and walked towards me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and grinned widely. "You ended a war single handedly."

I nodded. "Yes, I suppose," I replied. I shrugged. "But I was only doing what was necessary."

Balgruuf's eyes darkened. "Ah, yes. The dragon," he said. Balgruuf sighed. "Yes. I've had Farengar repairing the trap since you called last. The wood has been enchanted to resist all manner of Magicka, more weight as well. If you can manage to lure the dragon in, he will remain captured."

"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf," I said, bowing my head to him slightly. I bit my lip. "S-sir. I'm afraid I have another favor to ask of you."

"Anything Lucius," Balgruuf replied with a smile. "Just don't ask me to let another dragon in here."

I laughed dryly. "In a manner of speaking," I replied. My face soured. "Look, Balgruuf, I wouldn't ask unless it was completely necessary. It's a terrible favor to ask of you, and I don't want to do it."

"Just spit it out, man," Irileth snapped. Her impatience was helpful, this time.

"The Stormcloak Mer who assaulted your city," I began, "I – I need you to let her into the city with me."

Balgruuf was quiet a moment. "The Mer woman who single-handedly decimated my soldiers, brought a Vampire into power in my home, and nearly killed my family?" he asked. His fists trembled with rage. Then he raised his eyes to mine and shook his head. "I suppose we have no choice, do we? At least, not if killing Alduin is in the cards."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't be asking otherwise," I responded somberly.

Balgruuf laughed nervously. "Well then, let's capture a dragon."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

The looks that I was receiving from the reinstated guards and court of Whiterun could have melted the skin off of a Flame Atronach if there had been any Magicka behind them. As it were, they merely filled me with mirth: the threat behind every glare was meaningless when a human levied it against a superior being of Mer blood. Still, I was careful enough to watch over my shoulder the entire time the trap was laid, for even the greatest warrior can be killed by a fool with a knife.

"The trap is going to be very simple," Farengar, the foolish human wizard, explained. "You two need to merely call the dragon and lead him in here without dying. The guards stationed at the trap's triggers will take care of the rest as soon as the wyrm is in place."

Lucius nodded at the wizard. "Thank you, Farengar," he said, drawing a grin form the wizard.

"Do you think I could study him? The dragon?" Farengar asked. "Just for a few days. This is a once in an Era opportunity!"

I scoffed. "I think we are a little pressed for time, fool," I snapped, drawing a glare from Lucius and the wizard. I looked up, staring into the clear skies beyond the Great Balcony. "The fate of all Nirn rides on m – _our_ victory. We cannot afford to give Alduin any extra chance at defeating us."

Farengar opened his useless jaw to retort, but Lucius placed his hand on the wizard's shoulder. "As much as I hate to admit it, the bitch is right," he muttered, calming Farengar.

"Are you ready?" Balgruuf asked. He walked up, completely ignoring me. His eyes made very movement to gloss over my very existence; his fingers dug white-knuckled into his arms in an effort to, likely, keep from trying to kill me. "Our preparations have been completed."

Lucius nodded at the Jarl. "Then I suppose it's time we summon the dragon," I stated, forcing the Jarl to look at me. I took no small delight in the impotent rage that filled the man as he saw me, one he hated above all others to whom he would soon owe an immeasurable debt. Delicious irony. I pushed my way past the Jarl, smiling condescendingly at the animal as I did. I neared the end of the great balcony and summoned air into my lungs before letting my Voice out into the world in the form of the name that Lucius had told me: _"Odahviing!"_

**Jul**

**Lucius**

Odahviing seemed to have been laying in wait for our summons. A few mere seconds after Thera had Shouted his name to the heavens, the dragon roared in the distance. The threatening shriek echoed across mountains and plains, ringing in our ears long after the source of the noise had loosed it.

I am sad to admit that I expected a much easier fight than the one that we received. My recent battle with Alduin had, perhaps, drastically altered my perception of how strong other dragons could be. The dragons I had killed in my travels since that battle had seemed to pale in comparison to the might of Alduin. However, none of those _dov_ had been Alduin's Second.

Odahviing quickly moved to unleash Oblivion upon all present. "Farki!" one of the guards screamed as Odahviing flew quickly by, grabbing another guard as he went. The man in the dragon's claws screamed as he was torn from gravity's embrace. When the dragon let go, that embrace was quick to pull him down once again. He collided with the handrail of the Great Balcony with a loud crunch-squish before his body was sent tumbling down even further towards the grounds below.

That was when the dragon turned his attention towards Thera and me. It snarled in the air, black smoke twirling up from its nostrils. After a short moment in the sky, it roared again and rushed towards us. Words of Power began to echo from Odahviing's throat as he dove towards us, prepared to kill us, ending any chance mortals had of survival. Fortunately, I was prepared. I unleashed Dragonrend just as Odahviing was above the lip of the Great Balcony. The dragon's Shout disappeared from his lungs and the flight left his wings; Odahviing tumbled downward, colliding with the solid wood of the Balcony. The massive, winged form of the dragon bounced from the momentum it had built up during its free fall, skidding across the enchanted wood of the Great Balcony. The floor beneath us creaked and groaned under the force of the dragon's ricochets but did not break.

I drew my blade and leveled it at the dragon. Iron and steel rang from their sheathes all around me as I did so, and I even heard the twin blades of my hated enemy at the ready beside me. "Come and get me, dragon," I shouted.

"Or are you a coward?" Thera finished, taunting the fallen _dov_. Odahviing roared in response and struggled to stand upright. His teeth lunged forward at the elf, who laughed and jumped backwards. The dragon roared again and lunged towards me; with a quick cast of Ebonyflesh, I was merely pushed back by the force of the dragon's bite.

"NOW!" I screamed as Odahviing lunged forward once again. Chains suddenly creaked and rang, massive spools on the ceiling spinning wildly as the weight they had held up began to free fall downward. The massive enchanted barrier collided hard with Odahviing's neck and wings, forcing the dragon down. I stared at the creature, who almost seemed to be bowing, captured as he was.

"_Nid! Horvutah med kodaav!"_ the dragon cried to the sky. Fire leaped from the creature's maw. He begrudgingly continued. "_Zok frini grind ko grah drun viiki, Dovahkiin_. Ah, I forget. You do not have the dovah speech."

I narrowed my eyes at the wyrm. "_Hi nebenvah zey tul ontzuk, zeymah_," Thera replied with a cocky grin. "I wouldn't do that again if I were you, dragon."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"Ah, perhaps you are indeed more interesting than I perceived," Odahviing said. "_Unslaad krosis_. Your power is greater than I had thought when confronted with the summon of your _Thu' 'u bonaar. _You went to a great deal of trouble to put me in this... humiliating position_. Hind siiv _Alduin, hmm? No doubt you want to know where to find Alduin?"

"Yes. We need to know where he is hiding, the coward," I replied.

Odahviing laughed. _"Rinik vazah._ An apt phrase. _Alduin bovul._ One reason I came to your call was to test your _Thu'um_ myself. Many of us have begun to question Alduin's lordship, whether his _Thu'um_ was truly the strongest. Among ourselves, of course._ Mu ni meyye. _None were yet ready to openly defy him._ Unslaad krosis. _Innumerable pardons. I digress. He has traveled Sovngarde to regain his strength, devouring the _sillesejour..._ the souls of the mortal dead. A privilege he jealously guards.

"His door to Sovngarde is Skuldafn, one of his ancient fanes high in the eastern mountains._ Mindoraan, pah ok middovahhe lahvraan til. _I surely do not need to warn you that all his remaining strength is marshaled there. _Zu'u lost ofan hin laan..._ now that I have answered your question, you will allow me to go free?" "You can serve mortals for your crimes," Lucius said, his tone leaving no space for argument. Odahviing, however, disagreed still._ "Aam? _Serve you? ...no. And never all _joore. Ni tiid. _If and when you defeat Alduin, I will reconsider whether you are _Thuri_." "Then take us to defeat him. We will free you from his control. You will gain power and freedom," I suggested. The dragon considered this for a moment before nodding. "Hmm..._ krosis. _There is one detail about Skuldafn I neglected to mention. Only this. You have the _Thu'um_ of a _dovah,_ but without the wings of one, you will never set foot in Skuldafn. Of course, I could fly you there. But not while imprisoned like this." I knew we must release him, but the humans would not listen to me. Lucius had to struggle with the decision, weak and foolish as he was – he was only human, after all. Finally, Atmoran growled. "Release him," he called up to the guards. "We just caught him and you want to let him go!?" the guard called back incredulously. "I..." "Do it!" Lucius snapped, causing the man to jump in fear. "O-okay. Just don't blame me if he burns the city down," the guard called back. He turned and began to wind the crank. Opposite him, another guard did the same. Soon, Odahviing was free. The humans may have been fools, but they were strong. Good for slave labor, I suppose. "AH! _Faas nu, zini dein ruthi ahst vaal,_" Odahviing shouted as the yoke left him. He rolled the joints connecting his wings to his back and sighed in comfort. He turned to walk towards the edge of the Great Balcony. That was when I made my move. "Odahviing, tell him you cannot take us both," I whispered to the dragon. He stared ahead, the only indication that he heard me was the flicking of his eye in my direction. "He would have you serve humans. Mortals. I would do no such thing to you. I will kill Alduin and take his power. You may go free as I ravage the humans. As I take the power I so deserve." "But you would surely kill me," the dragon whispered. "You are cunning – and cruel – like a dragon, little one." "Ah, there is a chance I may kill you, yes," I explained. "If you were not useful to me, I probably would. But he _will_ kill you. He allies himself with the Blades. Dragon slayers who surely would hunt you down." Odahviing blinked. "_Ruz hin mein los dii, mal gein_," Odahviing replied. "I will follow you." I smiled. Victory was in my grasp. _**Jul**_ **Lucius** The dragon had abandoned me, saying he could only take one of us. Thera had been quick to volunteer to be the one and Odahviing had acquiesced. I watched her fly away aboard Odahviing on her path to dominating Tamriel. "Dammit!" I screamed. I buried my blade into the wood of the Great Balcony and flames launched from my throat as I shouted in rage. "Ah, I believed this would happen, _Dovahkiin_," a deep, sincere voice called from without the Balcony. I watched in awe – and relief – as Paarthurnax landed on the Balcony. "Gods above, another one!" a soldier screamed, aiming his bow at the old _dov_. "No! He's... a friend," I commanded. I looked up at Paarthurnax. "You expected she'd betray me." "It was always a concern," Paarthurnax replied. "_Unslaad_ _Krosis..._ I hoped to believe my brother would not fall to her machinations. I am saddened to see that she has " I let my head fall. "Then that's it. She's going to kill Alduin and claim his power," I sighed. "Perhaps, Lucius Atmoran," Paarthurnax said. "But then again, perhaps not." I looked up at Paarthurnax, whose head was low, touching the wood of the Great Balcony. "You mean..?" "Indeed, _Dovahkiin,"_ Paarthurnax said. "I may not know where the portal to Sovngarde is, but I know how to follow a foolish _dov_ through the skies." I bowed to the ancient dragon. "It would be my honor to accept," I said. Then I climbed aboard Paarthurnax's neck, my legs fitting easily into the shape of his jawline. I turned to Jarl Balgruuf. "Wish me luck." With that, Paarthurnax took to the skies and my hopes for Tamriel flew along with him. 


	22. The World-Eater's Eyrie

_**Fahiil**_  
**Thera**

I advanced with a mad grin towards the nearest Draugr guarding the outskirts of Skuldafn and lopped off its head in a single stroke, turning to do the same to one of its allies. I ducked beneath a swing from a third's two handed ax before cutting it off at the knees and smashing the dead human's skull in with my boot. I pulled a knife from my belt and tosed the hunk of glass towards another Draugr that ran towards me, landing the green blade directly in the eye of the beast.

"That was too easy for my liking," I sighed as I crunched the still moaning skull of the decapitated Draugr while I walked further towards my destiny. A dragon flew overhead, shrieking in its language at me. I smiled as my eyes followed to where it landed. "An appetizer."

I walked towards where the dragon landed, blades easily slicing through the decaying forms of the Draugr. "Hi fend ni lost bo het, Fahliil," the dragon said as I approached it. The dragon was a deep orange with pink flesh showing. Black, cruel horns arched out from its skull that matched many black splotches all around its form. It was larger than any dragon, barring Alduin, that I had ever seen.

"You should learn to never insult your betters," I replied simply. I rushed forward, rolling out of the way of a huge blast of frost the dragon sent my way. I slashed at the dragon, who merely growled and took once more to the air, its powerful wingbeats throwing me away as he ascended into the sky. The dragon launched a fire blast at my prone form, and I barely was able to force myself out of its path in time. I growled and ran, continuing to dodge the fire blasts that came my way.

"And you should learn to fear your betters, joor," the dragon replied before releasing another jet of flames from its mouth. The fires collided with the stone just behind me, and the expanding air sent my flying again. I gazed up at the dragon floating in the air above me and could only think of one more thing to do.

"Joore Zah Fruul!" I screamed as the dragon began to breath in, ready to burn me alive with another blast of flames from its maw. The blue energy collided with the dragon, causing the Voice within its throat to catch, the Magickal energy of the words gone. The dragon vainly flapped its wings, struggling to stay in the sky. But its massive form could no longer be supported by the weakness of its wings, and the dragon plummeted to the stone. The orange form collided with the stone, bringing about a thundering crack that left the dragon in the middle of a shallow crater. I rushed towards the lip of the crater and leaped, twisting both of my blades into a backhand as I soared through the air. I fell towards the dragon, ready to kill it, but was swatted away by the beast's tail.

"I know not the tolaak rot that you have used upon me, little dovah," the dragon said as it turned and approached me, the effects of Dragonrend still present and flowing into the creature. "But it will not matter once I have torn the life from your bones."

I groaned and struggled to my feet. The collision with the dragon's tail had sent my weapons flying from my grasp, and I was left without a sword. I reached towards my belt and found two glass knives to defend myself with. The dragon laughed. "You would fight me with tools no bigger than teeth! You insult me, Dovahkiin," the dragon stated, continuing forward. I snarled in response and staggered forward, the twin daggers in my hands ready to kill the beast. "Come then. Meet your end."

"You took the words from my mouth, vermin," I spat. I tossed the daggers slightly upward, grabbing the flats of both blades as they were grasped by gravity. The dragon glared quizzically at me with wide eyes. I smiled at how easy the creature was making this. I threw the blades and the dragon quickly understood. It brought its wing up to deflect the daggers, and one of the green blades clattered uselessly against the thick hide of the dragon. The wing was not fast enough to counter both blades, however, and one dagger sailed into the creature's eye. It roared in pain and arched its back, struggling to hand on to its life. I sneered and stumbled forward as the dragon brought its head down again. I clutched the handle of the dagger and pushed forward, carving into the dragon's brain. It roared again, this time in defeat, and I smiled. The characteristic orange of the dragon's soul flowed from its body, reducing its flesh to ash. As the soul of the ancient beast restored my strength I smiled. "Tastes like chicken." I collected my daggers and sheathed them before finding my swords and holding them ready. I had more dangers to face, and more power to claim.

_**Jul**_  
**Lucius**

I walked through the blazing ruins of Skuldafn, gazing in awe and horror at the power of my counterpart. Draugr bodies, burned and mutilated beyond semblance of the humanity they once held, laid lifeless about me. "Talos guide you," I whispered to the many dead bodies. Many in the dragon cults, the rumors went, had partaken in devouring human flesh. As such, their souls were cursed to wander Nirn for eternity until their punishments had been fulfilled. I hoped that the wrath and power that the long dead Nords had faced in the form of the Thalmor bitch perhaps counted towards completing that punishment.

I stopped at the huge doors to the interior of the fane. They had been blasted apart from the outside; a huge, circular dent showed that a massive – unrelenting, one might even say – force had torn the doors from their hinges and destroyed the doors that had held fast for millennia through three different human empires. I understood, in that moment, just how much like the dragons Thera was – a violent, powerful force of nature that would stop at nothing to achieve her goals. I prayed to the Divines that I was not the same.

I continued on, clutching a blade I had found in Sky Haven Temple tightly. The katana was much the same as any Blades sword. Light, durable beyond what it appeared, and curved in a way that showed the blade was obviously graceful and deadly. The differences to the normal Blades weapons were mostly superficial, but were sure to inspire fear in any dragon that saw the blade. The hilt was made of dragon bone, smoothed from centuries of use and covered in brown leather to aid in grip. The guard of the blade was adorned in fragments of dragon toes that circled around the tsuba. A ring adorned in the dragon's language was wrapped around the center of the hilt. At the pommel of the blade was a simple fragment of dragon tooth that was embedded into the hilt itself. The hilt as well was formed from molded and smoothed dragon bone, covered in the same runic script as the ring on the hilt. Truly, it was a weapon made to face dragons in war; I hoped that such a purpose would aid me in the coming battles with Alduin and Thera.

I felt my cheeks pall at the idea of fighting the two, especially if Thera was successful in her plans to usurp Alduin. It would not do well to fight a dragon of that power twice. However, I did find myself somewhat excited despite my fear. Should Thera succeed, I would have all the reason I could want for avenging Lydia's death at the bitch's hands.

I turned my attention from the destroyed doorway and walked between the two massive, destroyed barriers. I drew my blade from its place on my hip and used a simple spell to summon a light above my head. Then I stepped into the darkness of Skuldafn.

**_Fahiil_**  
**Thera**

I glared at the Draugr guarding the gate to Sovngarde. Alduin had entered just moments before I arrived and the being had closed the portal behind its master like a good little pet. It floated in the air, slightly, and lightning seemed to leap from its skin without the creature even having cast a spell. In one hand it held a void, a conjuration of some creature form Oblivion. In the other was a staff, black and shaped as if it were a dragon. This staff was the key to opening Alduin's portal to Sovngarde. The key to my victory, destiny, and Empire. Oh, yes, I liked the sound of my own Empire. Of course, the damn human fool who could challenge my power would have to die first. Then... Then I could take control.

But, of course, I had to focus on the present and the floating Draugr Dragon Priest before me. With a sneer, I readied my blades once again and rushed forward to kill the already dead being. It seemed, however, that I had underestimated my opponent. A wall of lightning sprang from the ground before me, sending jolts of pain through my body and forcing me to stagger backwards. The Draugr laughed behind its black, emotionless mask and released the void of energy in its hand. Nearby, a Storm Atronach erupted into being.

The stone and lightning creature moved towards me with its whirlwind tail propelling it forward. I barely was able to duck beneath the bolts of electricity that the Daedra leveled at me. Unfortunately, it seemed that I had forgotten about the Dragon Priest in my perilous situation. As I sidestepped another bolt of lightning sent by the Atronach, I stepped again into a wall of lightning cast by the staff of the undead Nord. I shrieked in pain and my body seized for a moment, just long enough for the next bolt of lightning to hit my chest and propel me backwards. My body flew, stiff, through the air.

I rolled across the stone ground of Skuldafn's summit and eventually slid to a stop. It took all my effort to merely roll out of the way of the next incoming lightning bolt. I saw the Dragon Priest pointing its staff towards me and immediately put my legs beneath my chest, propelling my forward and rolling to my feet. I groaned from the pain but still gripped my blades. I knew that staying on the defensive for much longer would only result in my demise. That fear was only amplified as two dragons flew down and perched themselves on the surrounding columns. However, they made no move to attack me, so I returned my attention to the Draugr and its Daedra. Just in time, too, because I was forced to dodge yet another bolt of lightning from the Atronach.

I analyzed the situation quickly, thinking through what I should do. There were two options, neither very appealing. I could attack the Atronach, eventually killing it and then turn my attention to the Dragon Priest. The Draugr could of course summon another Atronach or kill me itself, as I would be tired and injured from my previous battle. Or, I could assault the Dragon Priest directly. On the chance that I was able to kill the Dragon Priest, it was most likely that the Atronach it had summoned would disappear with the will that had bound it to the mortal plane. Of course, I would still be left in the unfortunate position of being outnumbered in a battle that it was looking more and more like I could lose, regardless of what plan I chose. So I decided that I would have to kill the Dragon Priest.

I rolled out of another bolt's path, my bones and muscles screaming at me as I did so. As I reached my feet once again, I turned from the Atronach and sprinted right at the masked Draugr. The creature was taken aback, for a moment, and it floated motionlessly. As I neared, however, it uttered a guttural snarl and loosed another wall of lightning before me with its staff. I jumped over the low wall and continued my sprint. As the hairs on my neck stood up once again, I ducked beneath an incoming bolt of lightning from the Atronach.

My blades collided with the staff in the Draugr's hands and it struggled against the force of my blow. Another bolt of lightning came from the Atronach and the energy channeled through my body and into the Draugr's. It shrieked in pain and managed to stick one arm out to banish its summoned slave back to Oblivion. Then it turned its attention back to me in an attempt to save its own life – or, unlife, rather. By then, though, it was too late. "Yol Toor Shul!" I shouted, the flames causing the Draugr to shriek in agony as its flesh bubbled and melted behind its enchanted mask. It stumbled backwards and dropped its staff. A moment later and my twin sabers stuck out from the Draugr's chest, and it crumbled to ash before me. I sheathed my blades and looked up at the dragons.

"You have impressed us, Dovahkiin," one of the two said. It cocked its head to one side and stared down at me. "We will not impede your journey into Sovngarde."

I glared at the dragons for a moment, then shrugged and grabbed the Dragon Priest's staff. Jamming the end into the keyhole on the podium, I watched in awe as a blinding white light reappeared before me. I took a single step towards the portal, then stopped. I looked up at the dragons. "There is another coming," I said, drawing the attention of the dov. "If you would, kill him."

The dragons considered this for a moment, torn between their fear of me and their disgust of mortals. Finally: "We will do as you asked, little dovah," the second dragon said. It shifted its weight on its perch. "Do not forget that it was we who helped you when your rule spreads across all dragonkind."

"Only if you do not fail me, dragon," I replied. Then I turned back to the blinding light and made my way into the afterlife.

**_Jul  
_****Lucius**

My blade had been free of battle ever since arriving on Skuldafn, as the Thalmor bitch had left no survivors in her rampage to the peak of the fane. I did not mind, of course, as I this merely meant that I did not have to defeat all of the Draugr myself. However, I would have been more merciful with the corpses. She had diced the creatures into tiny fractions, burnt them to ash with the Thu'um, or placed their bodies in doorways and slammed the gates shut, elongating their bodies far beyond their natural length.

At the peak of Skuldafn, however, I found that my jokaar had indeed left survivors to challenge me. Two dragons perched on stone pillars to either side of a magnificent white beam of light. Their gazes followed me as I approached, and they began to growl. "I have no quarrel with you, dragons," I stated. "If you allow me through, I shall allow you both to live."

The dragons laughed. "You have no hope against us, Dovahkiin," one of the dragons called as it jumped from its perch and approached me. Its compatriot did the same, and I was soon surrounded by the two beasts.

"I will give you one last chance," I stated as I drew Dragonbane. To my delight, one of the dragons did indeed step backwards at the sight of the blade, cursing the Blades under his breath. "Leave or die."

"We will not perish at your hands!" the braver of the two shouted. He unleashed fire at me and his brother did the same. With a sigh, I raised my hands to either side of me and channeled wards. Dragonbane seemed to spark with lightning at the sound of the Thu'um that disappeared harmlessly against my Magickal walls.

"So be it," I said simply. I raised my arms to the sky. "Strun Bah Qo!"

The clouds swirled and the wind began to blow like a hurricane. The dragons gazed at me in fear as lightning from the skies began to crash down upon them. They screamed in pain as the lightning crashed into their bodies with crashes of thunder accompanying their thunderous roars. Rain began to fall around us, coating the dragons even as the lightning continued to find itself Magickally drawn towards them, killing them. The less brave of the two gave out first, his flesh sizzling away as I absorbed his soul.

As the storm ended, I turned my attention to the braver dragon. "I warned you," I shouted over the howling of the dragon. I walked towards the dragon and it whined pitiably. "Akatosh have mercy on you, for I shall show you none." I then plunged Dragonbane into the dragon's skull and it died. The orange of its soul spiraled through the air and into my body, easing my pains and strengthening me.

I turned my attention to the blinding pillar of light. The flow of Magicka streaming out of the pillar was immense, beyond anything I had felt before in my life. I knew then that it had to be a portal to Aetherius, or at least some fraction of it. The afterlife and the source of all Magicka; the portal itself was like a star, then, an opening to the world of the Divines. I saw the silhouette of a staff in front of the light and that it stuck straight out of the ground. It was the lock, I knew instinctively. The key to opening the portal to the next world. Which meant that, in order to prevent any other dragons – or worse, Thera – from abusing it, I had to destroy the staff and close the gate to Sovngarde.

I walked up to the edge of the pillar of light and looked back at the staff. It was giving me an almost physical ache to be forced to do what I was about to do. There were so many in Sovngarde that I would want to meet and see more than once – soldiers, kings, bards, mages. And, if the portal were destroyed, I would have no way to return to Nirn. But the risks far outweighed any benefits I could attain. I could not let Thera have such power over the dead. With a pained sigh I raised my hand towards the staff and summoned a fireball of Magicka into my grip. As I stepped through the portal, I loosed the flames. I entered the portal, and my way home was gone.

**AN: First off: yes, I know that is not the vanilla description for Dragonbane. I always found the design to be too bland for such a legendary dragon-slayer's weapon, and, as such, have taken my inspiration from Insanity's Dragonbane. The idea that the Blades used the weapons of their greatest enemies in creating a weapon used to bring about their extinction was too believable to pass up for me. Secondly, the description of stars in Elder Scrolls is indeed, for anyone who does not know, the source of Magicka. Magnus supposedly broke away from Nirn's plane as Lorkhan's treachery became known and the Sun and stars are the result of the other Divine Spirits fleeing Nirn's plane back to Aetherius.**


	23. Dragonslayer:Sovngarde

**_Fahiil  
_Thera**

I stood before the Atmoran warrior, a giant of a Man. Prime slave cut, if he weren't stuck in the afterlife. As it were, he merely an annoyance. A fool who guarded my path to the "Tongues" who would help me destroy Alduin and claim the power I so deserved. "What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to honored dead?" the human like being asked.

"I am here to kill Alduin," I replied, disdain for the human dripping from my voice. "Who are you?"

"I am Tsun, shield-thane to Shor. The Whalebone Bridge he bade me guard and winnow all those souls whose heroic end sent them here, to Shor's lofty hall where welcome, well earned, awaits those I judge fit to join that fellowship of honor," the being, a god, said. He was no Divine, true, but if what he said was true... he was a god of Men. "As for seeking Alduin, a fateful errand. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde's threshold. But Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught - perhaps, deep counseled, your doom he foresaw."

"I seek entrance to the Hall of Valor, then," I replied, somewhat humbled by the knowledge of the man's divinity. Still, he was a god of men, and worth some disdain.

"No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the land of the dead. By what right do you request entry?" the god asked.

"I am Dragonborn, I am denied entry nowhere," I responded, angry that the being before me could not tell he was in the presence of a future god. After all, if the humans believed that Tiber Septim was capable of overcoming mortality through apotheosis then a Mer with superior pedigree definitely could.

Tsun narrowed his eyes for a moment, glaring at me, then burst out laughing. "Ah! It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood," he said between raucous bellows.

"Then I may enter?"

He shook his head and continued lightly chuckling. "Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'till I judge them worthy by the warrior's test." With that, he drew the massive ax hefted over his shoulder and bellowed. "Let me taste your might, O gods chosen!" His blade crashed down where I had been a half second earlier, shattering the stone of the afterlife. My eyes widened. Despite his size and the mass of his weapon, Tsun was fast. Almost as fast as I.

His blade turned to me again, whistling through the air and nearly cleaving me in two. "Is this a test, or are you trying to murder me!?" I shouted at the being as his ax nearly took off my shoulder.

Tsun laughed and attacked again. "Is there any difference, O Doom-Driven Hero?" he asked, a wild smile beneath his equally wild hair. His ax crashed into the stone beneath me again and I was tossed backwards. "Though, perhaps one of the Fey folk cannot see that."

I snarled as I rolled to my feet as I tumbled, finally getting a chance to draw my twin blades. I decided not to answer the god, troubled as I would be with the battle anyways. I rushed forwards, towards Tsun, and jumped over his next swipe of his ax. "Ah! There is your fire!" he shouted as I hit him square in the chest with my feet, pushing off to knock him down. No such thing happened, and he continued to swing at me. "Show me all of you, Dovahkiin!"

"Fine. _Fus Ro DAH_!"

Tsun stumbled backwards and dropped his ax. I rushed forward and held my blade to his throat. "Yield."

Tsun laughed. "Gladly, Dragonborn. You have proven yourself. Enter and find the Tongues brave that await you in the Mead Hall of Shor."

**_Jul  
_Lucius**

Sovngarde, according to the legends, was supposed to be a beautiful landscape of rolling hills and crag-like stones. Green and life as far as one could see, a landscape both battlefield and place of rest centered on the Whale-Bone Bridge and the Mead Hall of Shor that it connected to. None of that was present, however. In the short time I had been in the afterlife, I had seen nothing but terrified, wandering souls – many of them Stormcloaks whose faces already haunted my sleep – and the thick, oppressive fog that entrapped them as the food source for Alduin. The black dragon shrieked in the air above me and I scowled as another Nordic scream echoed through the unseen land.

"Well, well, well. We meet again, Dragonborn," a sad voice drawled. I turned in surprise to gaze at the soul of Ulfric Stormcloak. He smiled sadly, a look that seemed burned into his eyes. "I die a death worthy of an Epic and where do I end up? In a damn maze of fog."

I froze for a moment, confronted with the ghost of a man – honorable, but broken – that I had killed. "I'm sorry, Ulfric," I said simply, unsure of what else to say. I shook my head and sighed. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Stormcloak asked. He laughed heartily. "Is it your doing that Alduin seeks our souls? Though if you are here..."

"I am not dead, Ulfric," I replied. I drew my blade as Alduin roared once again. "Though if I do not make it to Shor's Mead Hall, that may be rectified by that damnable dragon."

Ulfric groaned. "Aye, the Hall of Shor. I have long quested for it, as did Galmar before..." Ulfric stared at the ground. "He's gone. Said he died a short while after I in battle with the Imperials who invaded the city. Then again saving me from Alduin."

"I'm sorry for your loss," I told the dead man, a feeling of redundancy crossing oddly with the empathy in my heart. "Let us find the Hall together, then. Surely, I owe you that much."

Ulfric nodded enthusiastically. "To aid the Dragonborn upon the fields of Sovngarde? Surely that is a tale that will be told for generations to come," Ulfric replied, drawing the blade he had died with from his hip. "You honor me, Dragonborn."

I looked up at the sky. "Let's clear this out, first," I said quietly. With a burst of air from my lungs and the Clear Skies shout, the air around Ulfric and me cleared to reveal the magnificent hues of the sky, an unending masterpiece of reds and purples against a pitch backdrop. The corner of Aetherius that I found myself in, despite its current entrapment by Alduin, was indeed a magnificent place. And I was determined to ensure that such beauty and majesty would soon be seen by all present in the afterlife.

As I realized who else must be in Sovngarde, I froze. "Lydia," I whispered, and my eyes trailed over the distance. Somewhere, out in the endless maze of fog crafted by Alduin, was Lydia. My friend, my ally, and the one who I failed the most. I had to make sure she reached Shor's Hall, if she had not already stumbled upon it through the grace of the Nine. Whether by my blade piercing the throat of Alduin or by finding her on my trek to the Hall, I would find her and save her as she saved me during our travels. Though, she did have a habit of standing in doorways when I needed to go through them...

"Come on, Ulfric," I told the dead man, and we marched off. I cleared the fog ahead of us whenever I could, but it always returned, accompanied by the echo of Alduin's far off _Thu'um_. Still, though, I had the distinct feeling that I was soon to find my way through the fog.

As we continued on, the shrieks of Alduin grew closer and closer. He was hunting us, toying with us as much as I was hunting him and searching for my dead friend. "What is he doing, really?" I asked the former Jarl.

Ulfric gazed fearfully at the dragon as it disappeared into another bank of fog. "He devours the souls of Men, just as the legends claimed," Ulfric replied sadly as another Nord screamed his last once again. "I know I am prone to Poetic language, Dragonborn. This is not one of those instances."

I was silent at this, for a while. Alduin was _actually_ devouring Souls. The idea is not so new, I supposed. Soul Gems, especially Black Soul Gems, had been devouring and expending souls since their discovery countless eons ago. But the idea that the Lord of Dragons was using those same concepts of Magick was mind boggling, and raised the terrible question of whether the same could be done for mortals. I was sure that such a tool in the Thalmor Bitch's hands could potentially lead to the end of Nirn as surely as if Alduin were the one using this power. These dark thoughts slowly brought me into a spiral of despair and pain; it felt as if the world were doomed no matter what I did.

Then I heard it. "Back foul beast!" a Nord woman shouted. The voice immediately drew my attention and I turned towards the source. Lydia. "This land belongs to the Nords, monster!" I drew Dragonbane and ran off, drawing confused shouts from Ulfric as he stumbled through the fog after me.

"Lydia!" I cried, sprinting through the fog. Even as I cleared it with the power of my Voice, it echoed back towards me. "Alduin, I'm right here! Come and get me!"

There was a huge snarl, followed quickly by, "My Thane!?" Lydia stumbled through the fog towards me and her face seemed to both light up and drop. "Thane!" She embraced me as a friend, a Shield-Sister, as the Companions would say.

"Touching. A reunion before you both fade into oblivion," Alduin cried from above. I looked up at the dragon and pointed my blade up at the beast. "Meyye."

"If I am such a fool, Coward, come and fight me," I told Akatosh's first born. "Or will you run as you did from the Throat of the World?"

Alduin did not respond with words, either in the tongue of mortals or in the Voice of a Dragon. Instead, he snarled and dove towards me, intent on snuffing out one of the most dangerous threats to his power. "Sorry," I told Lydia as I shoved her to the side. I raised my blade. "_Joor Zah Frul_!"

Alduin twirled in the air, the blue energy of Dragonrend harmlessly passing by him. I knew that, in that moment, my Doom was upon me. My fate was to die here, and I was not okay with that. I angled my blade upward and screamed at the dragon approaching me, knowing that, even if I died, I would take the damnable creature with me. I would stop both him and Thera in one fell swoop, though the cost may be my life. "Come and face your fate, Alduin!" I screamed, both hands on my upturned blade. Alduin merely laughed in response and continued to plummet towards me. As I was hit and tumbled to the side, I saw the broken form of Ulfric sticking out of Alduin's jaws.

"This is an ending fit for an Epic," he said, his voice bittersweet. Then Alduin's jaws crunched and the light in the soul of Ulfric Stormcloak was no more. Lydia dragged me to my feet, pulling me and begging me to run. I did so, more out of a need to listen than any real desire to save myself. I ran quickly, but without care. Dragonbane hung limply in my fist at my side, as if a single movement could send it tumbling to the ground. I had failed yet again.

"Thane, we must hurry," Lydia urged as we ran blindly through the fog of Souls. Her grip on my wrist kept pulling me towards... something. I could feel it, even in my angry, numbed state. A few moments later, Lydia and I burst out of the fog and were greeted by a sight that awed me.

The aurora in the sky was more magnificent there than anywhere else, with the reds, purples, blues and other, indescribable colors colliding and mixing as if in a dance or a war. Beneath the endless, starry expanse of the sky was a huge wooden building, a mead hall of a god. Lorkhan, or Shor, or perhaps even Talos made their home there accompanied by the endless souls of the Nordic and Atmoran dead who had died heroes over the countless eras. And, at the foot of the building, was the huge Whale-Bone Bridge guarded by the Shield-Thane of Shor, Tsun the god of heroic tasks. "Ah, another warrior from land of flesh... if that be what Shor thinks best," Tsun remarked as Lydia and I grew closer. He turned to the Housecarl. "As for you, warrior long passed, your test of courage was in the fog to last."

Tsun returned his gaze to me. "While she may cross the Whale-Bone Bridge, like Elf before ye, you must take a test of courage," Tsun said as he drew his ax.

I snarled. "Damn!" I shouted. I turned to Lydia. "The one who killed you – she's in there. And I can't do anything to her."

"What do you mean?" Lydia asked, torn between the natural desire for vengeance and her deep respect for me. "Why can't you kill the elf? You are Dragonborn, you can defeat anyone!"

"We're both Dragonborn," I said, defeat in my words.

Tsun cut in, then. "Dragonborn you say you are?" he asked. "Two of you? Then Alduin's defeat be not far." I turned to the god with brow raised. "Inside your twin – or enemy – consults the Tongues. Soon will she out here be, with blades of old to set Sovngarde free."

"Then I have no choice but to help her," I growled. I brought Dragonbane up and turned to the fog. I nearly jumped when I felt Lydia's gloved hand on my shoulder.

I turned to her and she smiled. "Well, then I guess I'll have to live with her as well," she told me. She grinned sheepishly. "Poor choice of words, I suppose."

"Indeed," I grinned. I sighed and looked up at the fog once more. Finally: "It's good to see you again, Lydia."

"And you, Thane," she replied. "And you."

**_Fahiil  
_****Thera**

With the ancient human warriors at my side, I exited Shor's hall – a half-baked afterlife for a species only useful for slavery. The three dead humans and I approached the Whale-Bone Bridge, and I saw something that made my blood simultaneously boil and freeze over. "Who may that be?" Felldir asked, his gravelly voice inquiring on... on Lucius Atmoran. As we grew nearer, the humans seemed to recognize him. It was obvious whom they preferred of us. "Ah, the Dragonborn of honor! And his greatest ally. Greetings, great warriors."

Lucius grinned and bowed to the Tongues. "I'm grateful to meet you all," he said. As his gaze hit me, however, the grip on his blade intensified and it shook. His Housecarl also looked as if she wished to kill me. Both, however, remained outwardly still, calm, and collected. Their desire to end me was only defeated by their desire to end Alduin, in Lucius' case, or by loyalty, in his pet's case. He finally addressed me. "Bitch."

"Slave," I replied with a smile. "How did you get here? Wait, don't tell me, Paarthurnax? I knew the old fool wouldn't be able to resist helping you."

"Do not speak of our teacher in such a way, worm," Gormlaith spat, her blade drawn and at my throat.

"Careful, Gormlaith," Hakon cautioned. "Evil she may be, but gods chosen she is as well. Sister Hawk and Dragon God joined her voice with both of theirs. We would do well to remember that."

Gormlaith's eyes narrowed, but she lowered her blade still. "I can control my blade once, elf. Do not tempt it again."

I glanced disinterestedly in the Tongue's direction and stifled a laugh. Then I turned my attention to Lucius' pet. "How are the eyes, pet?" I taunted, reveling in how untouchable I was at that moment. Humans bent to my will and safety – truly it was order of nature.

Lydia snarled at me and began to draw her blade, only to be stopped by her lord. "Not now," he told her, even though his own blade was directed at me. "We still need her."

"Ah, but I doubt that will do any good, Dovahkiin," Alduin called as he landed near us with a thud. He was perched high on a stone overlooking the mead hall. There was a menacing, evil glint in his eyes that gave even me pause. The dragon king breathed in deeply and sighed. "The smell of your joore fear is intoxicating, especially yours Gormlaith. My teeth ache to taste your blood once again."

Gormlaith, to her credit, only shook slightly at the threat. "We fear no wyrm, Alduin."

"Hm, is that so?" Alduin asked with a laugh. "Well, then, are you going to attack? Use the _rot duraal_ to do me in?"

"We will defeat you, Alduin," Lucius said, the calmest out of all present. His grip on his blade was no longer tight with rage or fear, but was held with perfect poise and power. I knew that if I had to face him at that moment, I would be very afraid. "You have my word that this blade will pierce your heart."

Alduin glared at the weapon, a blade adorned with the bones and skin of a dragon. "I will devour your souls, Dragonborns," Alduin stated as he lifted his wings. "I will destroy, here, all who dare oppose the First-Born of Akatosh. Then I will destroy your world." With a single beat of his powerful wings, he took to the sky once more and the wind flowing from his powerful wingbeat caused all present – even the god – to stumble. "Make peace with oblivion."


	24. Dragonslayer:Fall of the First Dragons

_**Jul**_  
**Lucius**

Alduin's meteoric fire fell from the sky of Sovngarde once again, the beautiful skies above Sovngarde twisted into the now familiar swirl of death that accompanied Alduin wherever he may go. The dragon himself disappeared once again into his Fog, sure that his fiery hellstorm would be able to do us in long before he had any cause to fight with us in the flesh.

I turned to the Tongues. "You three, clear the skies and fog. We need to force Alduin out of hiding before we can use Dragonrend on him, and getting rid of this fire would be nice," I told the warriors. They nodded in agreement and charged forward to do as I asked. I turned to Lydia and... her. "Once Alduin leaves the Fog, Thera and I will bring him down with Alduin. From there, we three will be the ones that attack him. Remember, he can only be injured when the Magicks of Dragonrend have cursed him to mortality, so if the blue glow isn't present... run away."

"You do not tell me what to do, human," Thera sneered in response. Her twin blades were in hand, ready to shed blood. "I am an Elf. We order your kind around."

I growled angrily, but swallowed my hatred and pride. "Then what do you suggest we do, O superior being?"

The bitch sneered at my sarcasm, then sighed. "Once Alduin leaves the fog, we will bring him down with Dragonrend. Only then can we attack him."

"Great plan," I told the bitch. I resisted the urge to plunge Dragonbane into her heart then and there. We had promised a truce, even if she had broken it by running with Odahviing.

She growled at me. "But remember. The deathblow is mine, Slave." I stared into the hungry, hateful eyes of the Thalmor bitch, and knew she truly meant to threaten me over taking Alduin's life. Her desire for his power, for his strength was great. Which is why I had to ensure that she would not kill him. No one should have the power of Alduin, but, even if it meant sacrificing my soul, I would be the one to take it. I at least had a chance of not murdering all of Nirn in my hunger for power.

Instead of voicing my rage and concerns to the Thalmor, however, I responded simply. "I would not endanger the world. Whoever kills Alduin is the one that shall kill him," I told her. She smiled and trudged off towards the Tongues, who were on their fourth round of clearing the Fog that Alduin kept bringing back. As she joined her Voice to theirs, I turned to Lydia. "We need to ensure she does not deal the final blow to Alduin. Such a thing..."

"Of course, my Thane," Lydia said with a slight bow of her head. "I understand."

"Fine then, you wish for me to devour you in person!?" Alduin screamed as the Fog disappeared once again. He flew from the other end of Sovngarde to place himself above the Tongues. "Then you shall die all the quicker, _joore."_ He shrieked and the fiery sky began to reform to kill us.

"No, that shall be you, wyrm!" Gormlaith screamed. As one, Thera, the Tongues, and I screamed the duraal rot. "_Joore Zah Frul_!"

Alduin screamed in pain as the combined vengeance and hatred of all mortals hit him, the energy flowing into his body and decaying his strength. "So you wish to fight without the vaunted honor your people hold so dear, _Joore?"_ Alduin asked, rage echoing through his voice. His form landed with some measure of grace, if still heavily, against the ground of Aetherius. "Then come for me. Let us fight to the death once more, _Joore."_

Thera was the first to rush forward. "I will gladly comply, fool!" she screamed as she ran. Her blades crashed against the dragon's teeth as he lunged at her. "You will fall to my blade this day!"

I turned to Lydia. "Just... don't die on me again," I told her. "I plan on seeing my friend again when I'm in Aetherius for the final time."

"Of course, my Thane," she replied as she drew her blade. "But I think we should get over there before she claims Alduin's seat for herself.

I smiled. "Let's," I said as I drew Dragonbane and summoned a lightning bolt to my hand. "Let's go."

_**Fahiil**_  
**Thera**

Even weakened as he was by the power of my Voice, Alduin was a worthy foe. Filled with the power of countless human souls, he was still strong enough to fight the six who would destroy him. I struggled to keep from shaking in anticipation of the power I would soon wield. Such movement would only serve to weaken my blows and bring about my death. "I see your soul, little _dovah,"_ Alduin taunted as I jumped over his sweeping tail. "I see your hunger. If there was any chance you could have survived this, I would guess that you would have ruled the _joor._ Instead... you will feed my power, _Dovahkiin."_

Alduin's tail flew up suddenly as it passed beneath me, sending my flying back towards the humans and the god. "Do you not deign us important enough to help!?" I snapped at Tsun as I struggled to my feet.

"To battle Alduin be your Doom, but if ye fail it be your tomb. I see no reason to interfere in fate," Tsun told me. "And if you are destined to fail, my help would be too little, too late."

"Enough with the verse!" I screamed at the god as I collected my weapons from the ground around me. I turned back towards Alduin, flying upon wing once again. With a deep breath, I unleashed the power of Dragonrend once again.

Alduin twisted in the air, evading the danger of his own mortality. "_Rot duraal fen ni hiif hi nu, joor_," he cried before breathing a blast of fire at the Tongues, forcing them away. "Now feed my power, mortals!" The black dragon roared in excited vengeance and plummeted towards the Tongues. "The power of your soul will destroy those you seek to protect, Felldir!"

"Then I die again, a free Man!" Felldir screamed, raising his blade. "_Joore Zah Frul!_"

The lord of dragons shriekd as the energy collided with him head on. For a moment, Felldir seemed to believe he could survive... but, it was not meant to be. The gaping maw of Alduin remained open, ready still to devour his ancient enemy. Felldir disappeared in the explosion of dirt that erupted from Alduin's crash site.

"FELLDIR!" Gormlaith screamed, running towards her mentor. She was knocked backwards by the wing of Alduin as he crawled, mortal, from the crater.

"His final cries for mercy were delicious," Alduin sneered down at Gormlaith's terrified face. "And I suspect yours will be as well."

"I doubt that!" Lucius screamed, rushing towards Alduin. The dragon's attention turned towards my jokaar, confused but gleeful. He could claim one of the dangers to his – and my own – future rule. However, such a death seemed fated to not occur. Lucius raised a ward to deflect the incoming breath of fire, the launched forwards with his blade towards Alduin's gaping maw.

"Thane!" Lydia screamed angrily, rushing forward next to him. "I thought you were going to be careful!" Lucius laughed as he flew through the air, his blade slashing through Alduin's open jaw. The dragon screamed in pain as the blade tore from his mouth one of his longest teeth, leaving a gaping hole in his gums where it had once been. The blade itself pierced further, opening a hole in the dragon lord's, for lack of a better term, cheek. Alduin's head instinctively jerked backwards at this new pain, and Lucius' blade tore a jagged path through the remains of Alduin's left jaw, tearing the tendon that connected bottom to top. That was when I noticed something was wrong.

My eyes widened as I understood. Alduin was no longer under the effects of Dragonrend. I panicked for a moment, wondering if Lucius was more powerful than I. Then the image of his blade flashed through my mind. Coated in the bones of dragons, adorned with their natural weapons. No doubt the weapon was built by the Blades, a tool for hunting dragons with their own bodies as the tool. The Magicks placed upon the blade must have created a strength in the metal, one that dragons of all kinds were susceptible to. Alduin himself was the firstborn dragon... which meant that the powers of the blade applied to him as well. Such a weapon... I desired it.

I ran forward to steal the weapon from its current master. Only I would tear the power of Alduin's soul away and make the very base of Nirn fall to its knees. Only I would rule over all of Tamriel and beyond. It was my destiny.

_**Jul**_  
**Lucius**

Lydia pulled me back from Alduin's injured form before the monster had a chance for a retaliative blow. "That was foolish," Gormlaith said from beside Lydia, her blade drawn. Her voice was angry, but her eyes were filled with thanks and relief. "Losing either of you would be a great problem."

I glanced over at my opposite, who had bee hanging back from assaulting Alduin since she had been tossed away like a rag doll. She was a disappointment in every way, completely unwilling to fight for herself unless it was necessary, and even then only if she was almost guaranteed success. Now, though, she was sprinting at me, blades forward. "She's insane," I breathed to myself. I never stooped staring at her. "Gormlaith, Lydia. Run, go fight Alduin. Something has come up."

"But -"

"GO!" I screamed at my housecarl, eyes begging. She breathed in to protest again, then thought better of it. She and Gormlaith ran off to fulfill my request.

"So you've decided to try and kill me already," I sneered at the Elf as she approached. I raised my hand and blasted at her with a cloud of frost. "We agreed to postpone this feud! You promised!"

"That was before I realized the power you held, Atmoran!" she retorted, sneering beneath her helmet. She slashed at my head with one of her glass blades and I barely deflected the blow in time to survive. "No longer is your life a convenience, Slave. It is now an obstacle!"

I growled and deflected her next incoming blow with my ebony bracer, then slashed at her head with Dragonbane. The Elf laughed as she ducked beneath the attack and brought her foot crashing into my chest. I stumbled backwards, barely keeping my footing. "This will not be the same as our last battle, Man," the Thalmor Bitch said, smirking. She raised her blade and advanced slowly towards me. "Give me the sword, and maybe you will survive."

I looked down at Dragonbane. She wanted the sword. I didn't know why, but I knew that, if the Bitch wanted it she wasn't going to get it. "No. I don't trust you with... its power," I told her, hoping that I would be able to learn what she was after if I played along.

"Give it to me now, and your death will be quick!" she snapped, a statement much more true than her offer of survival. Still, I doubted it would be quick or painless if she found the strength to do me in.

"This is insanity!" I screamed, rushing forward and attacking the Elf with Dragonbane. "While we fight, Alduin approaches all he needs to destroy the world!"

"Then give me the weapon!" Thera screamed, her patience running thin. Her twin blades began to swing wildly, unpredictably. It became a task to even try to survive. That she inspired in me a wild rage that destroyed my technique did not aid me. After a particularly savage blow, Dragonbane flew from my hand and I found myself at the wrong side of Thera's weapons. I lashed out with my foot and she stumbled backwards, dropping one of her swords. I scrabbled for the glass blade and brought it up defensively.

Thera did not notice, for Dragonbane was in one of her hands. A gleeful smile on her face, she said, "Now I have no need for Dragonrend!" She looked over at me. "You have lost everything, Slave."

I ignored her, too busy analyzing what she had said. Dragonbane had a similar effect on Alduin that Dragonrend did. The enchantments added by the ancient Akavir and Blades must have made the metal of the blade a toxic substance for dragons, one that was able to dissolve the flesh of the wyrms. But Alduin? He was another level of beast. I would claim the Bitch was insane, but she seemed so calm and sure. I furrowed my brow. I needed that weapon back. "Lydia! Get her!" I screamed. I rushed forward to attack my mirror image and she lashed at me with my own weapon. He blade collided with mine, and she raised her other weapon to attack me again. She seemed very surprised when Lydia's steel shield collided with her shoulder and knocked her to the ground. I jumped atop the Elf and began to struggle with her for Dragonbane. "Give it back, Bitch!"

She snarled at me, then. "You can have it!" she screamed, lashing out with her foot. I flew through the air and her blade – my blade – was suddenly plummeting towards my cest. "DIE!"

"NO!" Lydia screamed, knocking the Bitch down and saving my life... again. Dragonbane flew from the woman's hand to the ground. I grabbed the Elf's glass blade again to kill her, but she was already gone. Dragonbane was still on the ground.

"Joor Zah Frul!" echoed from the battlefield, the Voice of the Elf assaulting the dragon king above. He roared in pain and plummeted towards the ground again, crashing down and injuring himself. I ran towards the battle to see Alduin's wings broken, his bones sticking out of the leathery, thin skin.

"So the one that would claim my power stands before me, ready to claim my thu'ri," Alduin groaned as Thera approached. I narrowed my eyes. I would not let her claim this power. Now while I drew breath.

"Lydia, distract her," I told the woman. She nodded and ran straight at Thera, shield before her. I ran after and past her as Lydia collided, full speed, with Thera, sending her flying away.

"No. It will be me," I told the king of dragons, jumping down and plunging the glass blade into his skull.

"NO!" Thera screamed, shoving my housecarl off of her body. She ran forward as Alduin screamed, his skin melting off his body to reveal a black, gooey skeleton. "NO! MY DESTINY!" Alduin's back arched upward as Thera screamed this, his soul streaming not into my body, but towards the sky. Taken back by Akatosh was the soul of his first born. I was glad that the curse was not mine to bear.

Above: "No... NO!" Thera screamed with an insane look. "I'll kill you for this!"

"Unable be ye to kill that Man, though perhaps one day you can," Tsun said, gazing between us. "Many fates I see for thee, death and toils a veritable sea. That was a mighty deed! The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor's hall forever. But your fate lies elsewhere. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting."

"He will soon be here, dead at my hand!" Thera hissed, her fists clenched angrily.

"Be quiet, Fey, tempt not my anger," the god demanded, cowing her. "Your better is he, for now. Return ye both to Nirn, with this rich boon from Shor, my lord: a Shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need. _Nahl Daal Vus!_"

"_Goodbye, my Thane,_" I heard Lydia whisper as Aetherius faded from view.

**_Jul – Vus  
_****Lucius**

I awoke beneath Paarthurnax, weaponless. "So it is done. _Alduin dilon_. The Eldest is no more, he who came before all others and has always been," the ancient dragon said, tearful musings in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I told the dragon. "I know he was your brother, even if he had to be stopped."

"Indeed. Thank you, _Lot Dovah_," Paarthurnax said, a sad smile on his face as he bowed his neck. "And the power of my brother lies not in either of you, I see."

"No. The gods saw fit to take it back," I explained. I looked back at the unconscious form of Thera. "Thankfully. I would not have survived such a curse, Paarthurnax."

"Indeed. No _dov_ truly can withstand such temptation of rule," the dragon noted sadly. "Indeed, not I, not you, and not her."

"That is because it was not temptation. It was my destiny. The gods would have granted this gift to a Mer, you see. We are superior," Thera sneered. I turned to her again. She clutched Dragonbane in one hand. "And you would have been the first to see my Empire rise."

"You have lost, Bitch. Leave," I said. "I will honor the truce, still. Despite your betrayals."

Thera laughed cruelly. "But will the Greybeards honor you when you betray them?" she asked with a sneer.

"What?"

"_Fus Ro Dah!_" she screamed, knocking me into the Word Wall. "Watch as I defeat you even in your victory." She laughed and rushed towards Paarthurnax. Before the old dragon could react, Dragonbane was in his eye. Life left his body as Thera ran away and, as I was closest, his soul flooded into my form. "Can you survive knowing you stole his soul? Next we meet, you will die."

I stared in horror as the bitch ran from me. I was frozen, transfixed by the horror of what Thera had done. She had made me take the soul of a friend. I had failed again, because I wouldn't just kill her. Because of my honor. I had lost.

**_The Bard_**

"And so ends the first chapter of the war of souls, destined to burn with flames above our own," the Bard concluded. The audience was silent, transfixed. "I will continue tomorrow. It is late."

The men and women assembled in the tavern slowly began to leave, a steady stream of bodies talking amongst each other about the things they had heard. Part story. Part history. The Epic of the _Jokaar_ Dragonsouls was unmatched in all the tales of heroes and warriors throughout Tamriel's history. "I liked the story," the bard heard. With a start, the bard looked up and saw an old man. He wore black armor adorned with the Dragon of the Empire. His hair was mostly gone, save a gray ring around his head from temple to temple. The bard stared, speechless. "How long have you been telling it?"

"I..."

"Eh, no need to answer," the man replied. He smiled and looked around the tavern. "Getting late, eh? I'll be back tomorrow to hear the rest of the Dovahkiin's tale from you. You seem to know it best, hm? Save a spot for 'Wulf,' would you?"

Then the old man laughed and turned on his heel. With a flourish of the black cape draped from his shoulders, he exited the door, leaving only the awed and terrified bard in his wake. The bard reached into his pocket tentatively and pulled out the Septim he carried, a relic from the previous Empire. He gazed down at the face with a combination of surprise and recognition. Tiber Septim.


	25. The Dark Brotherhood

**AN: First off, I'd like to say to everyone who has read the first chunk of this story: thanks. If you have any suggestions, criticisms, or [hopefully] praise, feel free to leave reviews.**

**Next, to SilverShadow138, I'd like to say good. I hate Thera, too. It's one of my favorite things about the character. I've noticed, from my time playing Skyrim or watching my brother play, there are two types of Dragonborn that people play as – the "Heroic Savior" and the... opposite. I'm guessing you guys can already tell exactly which character is inspired by which style of play. And, let me tell you, I think she's going to get worse. If you hate her now for what she's done to Lydia and Paarthurnax, I'm sure you will despise Thera once I'm done with the DLC and Faction characters.**

**The next... four, I want to say, chapters are going to cover the two Dragonborns and their dealings with the various factions throughout Skyrim. Sometimes both will show up in the questline, though never on the same side. In this chapter, for instance, Lucius will show up as a guard on the ill-fated ship of the Emperor at the end of the Dark Brotherhood questline, while Thera is, obviously, the Listener.**

**Enjoy.**

**_The Bard_**

As soon as the Bard entered the inn the next morn, he saw a crowd much larger than the previous day's, which said much. He thought he even saw a member of the local noble's entourage sitting amongst them. That did not matter, however. The Bard had played for nobles before in his travels, many times telling the tale of the _Jokaar._ No, the Bard would not, and could not, be intimidated by mortals of that or any stature. What _did_ give him pause was the man in the front, smiling disarmingly.

Black armor. A half-ring of gray or silver hair. Bright, shining blue eyes beneath a strong and expressive brow. The man seemed to shine with an internal, hidden power, one that was subconsciously obvious to all present; the other guests, even the noble and his entourage, gave Wulf a respectful berth.

The Bard supposed that was normal, expected even. Somehow, in all his travels, the idea that an Aedra had decided to visit Tamriel was rather tame. The Daedra took vested interest in mortals, despite the obvious lack of worth most Daedra placed on mortal lives. Why wouldn't the Aedra, the ancestors and creators of the mortals, want to see their creations once in a while? And that would go double for Talos, who likely still felt tremendous kinship for the world he had transcended. A Man who apotheosizes is still a Man, after all.

The Bard took his place at the head of the room. Every few moments, as he prepared himself, he would glance nervously in the direction of the man who could very well have been a Divine. "Th-thank you for coming," he finally said, the anxiety of telling the story in the presence of a god slightly rattling him. He took a deep breath, then continued. His confidence seemed to have been strengthened; Wulf's eyes twinkled with a smile. "The story of the two Dragonborn Empires is a long one, filled with the pains and deaths of countless. The Empires were not built on the grave of only Alduin. No, the Empires that Thera and Lucius would build were born on the ashes of other, perhaps deadlier foes as well. Today I will sing to you of how the two Dragonborns, through design or chance, sowed the seeds of their kingdoms, and a war that would nearly shatter Tamriel."

_**Fahiil  
**_**Thera**

Life since the defeat of Alduin had been dull. Uninteresting. Pointless. I am a superior Mer-blooded mortal; such a being should not be limited in the scope of her ambition to a backwater nowhere like Skyrim.

As it was, I could do little but wait. Wait for the many enemies in my life to attack. Once I killed the first one to come after me, I'd know who to hunt down. _That_ would be entertaining, to have purpose once again. To run my blade through the hearts of my enemies, claiming what once was theirs as my own.

Unfortunately, even superior elven-blood Dragonborn who had nearly usurped the power of a god needed sleep. I was more welcome, those days, in the holds that had once been the seats of Stormcloak power. The new High Queen had, on the urging of her adviser Legate Rikke, pardoned the former Stormcloaks with the blessing of the Imperial Military, but I doubted that I would be safely welcomed into holds such as Whiterun or Solitude. Instead, I sat in the village closest to High Hrothgar and the Seven Thousand Steps. The Vilemyr inn, and the Greybeards miles above, believed me to be a friend or ally. For the time being, the town would alert me should I be attacked. Perhaps even die as I escaped. _I will be safe for a single night_, I thought as I laid down my head and, instantly, fell asleep.

When I awoke, my groggy mind could already tell I had been asleep for days. My joints moved stiffly, painfully, and there was a sharp pain running through my mind. My neck was stiff, as if I had been sleeping in unusual positions for some time. My stomach gurgled, having not been filled for some time. "Ah, good to see you're awake," a voice called, drawing my attention towards the corner of the room. My vision was still shaky, but I could tell that the red and black blur sitting atop a bookcase was an assassin. A Dark Brotherhood assassin. "Recognize the colors? Good, good. Well, I suppose you have a few questions."

I gulped down the pit of fear in my stomach. They had warned me they would be coming for me. Though, why they had not killed me yet was beyond me. "Dark Brotherhood. Where am I? Why am I here?"

"Oh, well I am not going to answer where, yet," the woman said – for it was indeed a woman. The tight leather armor accentuated that much. She had the faintest hint of a Nord accent that was carefully disguised under layers of adopted Imperial, Redguard, and even Altmer tones. "But as for why you are here... well, that's easy, isn't it."

"No. You haven't killed me yet."

The assassin stared at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Oh, you think I'm going to kill you?" she asked between fits of laughter. "How unimaginative of me would that be? And how wasteful. No, my dear Thalmor, I'm going to offer you a job."

"Why would I agree to follow a Nord?" I asked, adopting my true self. If she knew I was Thalmor, why hide it?

"Because I don't care about your war," she said, swinging her leg that hung from the bookcase in the rundown shack. "And you were fired, anyways. You'll follow me because I am going to give you exactly what you crave."

"And what do I crave?" I asked with a thin smile. "And how would you know I was fired?"

"Blood, like any killer, is what you desire. What you need most. It makes you strong, wild. And as for how I know you were fired..? Well, it's the same reason you aren't dead," the assassin explained. "The Dark Brotherhood isn't at its strongest now, but I know enough. You were hired by the Aldmeri Council, just as we were, to kill your late employer. They usually hate us, but they couldn't risk it coming back to them. They probably hoped we would kill you, as well, or you us. Mop everything up."

"So? Why haven't you?" I asked, my hands on my blades. She was dangerous, threatening. Still, I was intrigued. I wouldn't kill her until I needed to.

The assassin grinned beneath her mask. "The kill you made. It was artful, beautifully done. Rockjoint was the official cause of death, correct? Nasty way to die, poisoned by a paralytic as strong as the one you used. And you were never found. No one, not a guard, knew that you had killed Elenwen. There was no suspect of foul play. Only assassins can see the truth behind the small cut on the dead Mer's arm, the concussion inducing blow to her head."

"So you aren't going to kill me... because you respect me?" I asked, my hands drifting from my weapons.

"Close enough," the assassin answered. Her leg stopped swinging. "But we were also hired to kill her. That is our blood you took. Blood... that must be repaid." The woman pointed to the other side of the shack, and I followed her gaze. Three people were kneeling on the ground, bound with black masks covering their heads. "There is a contract out on one of them. Find out who, and kill them."

"I merely need to kill the one with the contract?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

"Of course."

"Who is it?"

"That's not the point."

"..."

"Well, go on. Let's see how you do..."

I frowned and turned back to the captives. One was begging, nearly pissing his pants in fright. I doubted that a contract would be out on him, but anything was possible. Another was a woman screaming that she would kill me for this. Profanity made its way into her rant. Nasty. Perhaps someone wanted her dead. Finally, a Khajit was trying to bribe me with blood money. He was probably on someone's short list for death. So I had two likely candidates and a wildcard. I was really no further than I had been before hearing their words. "Make your choice. I have all the time in the world, Dragonborn."

I glanced back at the woman, whose head was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. For a moment, I thought about killing her. She had kidnapped me, thought herself above me. The nerve of Nords.

I thought better of it, however. She was, in essence, offering me the ability to freely pillage and plunder the world around me. I would have countless chances to take power, and I was willing to bet I would be hired – one day – to kill Lucius Atmoran. When that day came, I would have allies – disposable, yet skillful – with which to kill the Man. To gain allies, one must impress them. To impress an assassin...

I walked to the left of the Khajit, who was snapping at me now. Begging, upping his price. He would bargain his way out of death, if it was the last thing he did. "Hush now," I said, loud enough for all three to hear. The man pissing himself breathed a sigh of relief as he realized I was furthest from him. I breathed in deeply and the words tore from my throat. "_Yol Toor Shul!_"

The three captives screamed in pain as the flames overtook their bodies, burning and charring their flesh, smothering them in the smoke of their own skin. They died in horrible pain, and I smiled through every scream. It was delicious. "Well, all three. Well done. It could have been any of them really," the assassin praised as she jumped down from the bookcase. "I applaud your bloodlust. Now, how about joining my little family?"

"Nothing would make me happier, Sister," I said with a nasty grin.

_**Jul**_  
**Lucius**

Nearly four months after the defeat of Alduin, I had been added to the Emperor's protective detail on his ship outside of Solitude. An Elf had recently tried to claim his life, instead killing his body double. Alongside that, the Emperor's cousin and her newlywed husband had died on their wedding day as they began to address the crowds in attendance. The head of Titus Mede II's security, the Penitus Oculatus – whom Delphine constantly referred to as "Blade rejects" – suspected it was the Dark Brotherhood, and had eliminated the last known cell in Tamriel. Still, though, it paid to be careful. Especially if the murderous Elf was the one I believed it to be.

"How goes the defense, Hero of Skyrim?" the Emperor asked as he peeked out of his study. "Are we making good headway to Anvil?"

I shook my head. "Not yet, Sir. We are still waiting for port authorities to light the signal. Until then, we're just floating. Try to enjoy yourself, Sir," I told the old man.

Cyrodiil. The idea of returning home gave me both chills and filled me with excitement. I knew that my parents had lived, for some time, at least, in the city of Bravil. They had been loyalists to the Empire during the city's tenure as an independent state. Unfortunately, their loyalties had gotten them killed during battles between Bravil, Leyawiin, and the "independent Thalmor raiders" that eventually captured me. And...

I hoped to travel to Bravil. I knew that the home I had once lived in was no longer there – the Empire's victories over Bravil and Leyawiin had been destructive – but it was still my family's home. I knew that, despite whatever memories I held of the land, I had to return. In Skyrim I had become aimless. The end of the Civil War and the death of Paarthurnax at that **_Bitch's_ **hands had shaken me. I needed... direction.

I somberly smiled at the aging, controversial Emperor. While he was not a Dragonborn Emperor, what he stood for was important. That was why I followed him, to follow an ideal. The ideal of the Empire. Perhaps the General present in the southeastern region of Cyrodiil would enjoy the aid of a skilled warrior in testing the Dominion's defenses before the beginning of the next war, which was looking like more and more of a grim reality every day. The peace, already fragile, had been nearly reduced to rubble on more than one occasion since the end of the Skyrim Civil War. The political tumult in the Dominion's Council was worsening as time went on; more and more of the Council seemed to be followers of a more... militant and racist group of Altmer dedicated to the extermination of Man and His Empire.

The Emperor's eyes darkened. "Boy, I give you permission to leave now," he said hollowly. I frowned and shook my head. The Emperor laughed slightly. "Despite whatever it is Commander Maro told Tullius to get you on this detail, Legate, my fate is decided. One cannot stop the Dark Brotherhood, and I would not have a Dragonborn – an Emperor, perhaps – die for a man who cannot save anyone."

"I'm stronger than I look, Sir," I told the Emperor.

"Well, you look damn strong, boy," he said quietly. "But the gods have spoken, eh? The birth of a Dragonborn usually heralds the birth of an Empire. Think on that, as your predecessors did, hm?" With that, the Emperor slowly shut the door to his study and I was left alone in the dim light of the ship. I hoped to the gods he was wrong.

"I won't fail another, Sir," I promised. Sadly, I knew even then such a promise was empty.

_**Fahiil**_  
**Thera**

Much had happened since that fateful day in the abandoned shack outside of Solitdue. The Dark Brotherhood had become... in their words a family, but in mine more of a... potential weapon. I had joined them, commingled with them. I was the only one of superior Altmer blood, but a Dunmer was present as well. An Argonian, too, but the rest were _human._

Still, I had done my "duties." I claimed the lives of countless fools throughout Skyrim, acts which – just as Astrid had claimed – gave me some measure of joy. The absurd religion of the Brotherhood had nothing to do with it, I just wanted to kill Men. It was going quite well.

The part of me that wished to see the Empire fall was more than enjoying itself, as well. The Dark Brotherhood, shortly after the revelation I was their "Listener" had come upon a task of nigh limitless import. The group, of which I had become a possible leader, had been hired to exterminate the Emperor and any of his family who could claim his throne. I had, with as much joy as I could ever feel, done exactly that.

Unfortunately, my first attempt to kill the Emperor had been spoiled. Astrid, the bitch, had betrayed me. She feared I would lead the Brotherhood. She had lost her power, and she had known it. So she traded the Brotherhood's life for mine. Empire didn't follow through, however. They killed everyone, save myself, that moronic jester, the vampire child, and the sarcastic Alik'r. I killed Astrid, the traitorous bitch, with her own blade.

But the contract was not complete.

I crouched in the shadows, the Ancient Dark Brotherood armor that clung to my shoulders disguising me from view. I desperately wanted to kill everyone on the ship, but there was definite reason to give me pause. As he paced back and forth down a hallway, I knew that my contract had gone from a mild challenge to damn near impossible. Still, I couldn't pass up this opportunity. Killing Mede would kill his Empire, which would make room for mine own, one day. Delusions of grandeur, they were not. Dragonborn had a... tendency of ruling Tamriel. Who was I to end that streak?

I watched my pacing _Jokaar_ with interest. As much as I hated to admit it, the man's power was – then – greater than my own. A true fight, at that moment, would have ended in my defeat. My death. Our truce had ended with Paarthurnax's life. Killing Lucius on the ship... I knew it was not an option. My eye drifted to a candle and I smiled. Walking right past the fool... that was an option.

I tore a shred of cloth out of my pack and wrapped it tightly around an arrow. I dipped the arrowhead into a wine bottle on a nearby table, then nocked the arrow and placed it above the candle. Sure enough, the flames erupted into being on the alcohol infused rag, and my distraction was readied. I crouched in the shadows once again and the arrow flew through the air until it collided with the hull of the ship, the wood bursting into fire. It seemed the gods were on my side, then.

"Dammit!" Lucius snapped to himself as he glanced the fire. He drew his sword, obviously prepared for an assassin. The loud man bumbled right past me and I laughed to myself as I placed the bow back over my shoulders. I drew the dagger known as the Blade of Woe from my hip and marched right into the Emperor's study. I locked the door behind me, then turned to Emperor Titus Mede II.

"Hm, and once more I prove Commander Maro the fool. I told him you cannot stop the Dark Brotherhood; never could," the old man said as he stood up from behind his desk. I was amazed by just how much he looked like his double. They could have been brothers, for all I know. Of course, all humans look at least a little like each other to me. They do not deserve the careful study of an Elf. "Come now, don't be shy. You haven't come this far to just stand there, gawking, have you?"

"Indeed I have not. You know who I am?"

The Emperor shrugged. "While many Mer disagree with the Aldmeri Council, I can tell you are not one of them. It's in how you stand, Elf," he said, disgust creeping into his voice. "The way you killed my family, my double... you relished murdering humans too much to be merely any Dark Brotherhood assassin. Thalmor."

I smiled sinisterly. "Yes. And don't worry, after you die, I'll kill the fool who put this bounty out," I told the Emperor as I approached him. To his credit, he didn't flinch or step back at all. "To take two leaders of the Empire out in a single week... how could any good Thalmor pass up such an opportunity? How could any Dragonborn?"

The Emperor's eyes widened in surprise. "So the rumors are true... You are his opposite. His obstacle," the human before me said. "His final barrier to the Empire he will craft."

_ Lucius Atmoran_... "No. He is mine," I snapped at the Emperor. "When I conquer him, tear his soul asunder, I will craft an Empire. Infinite. Everlasting."

"I'm sure that's what Talos said," the Emperor responded coyly. "Perhaps you are right, though. All I know is what the Divines deem I should know, and that is that I must die for the next Empire to live. I suppose you are like Alduin, then. Sweeping aside the old world to craft a new one upon its ashes."

I smiled. "Thank you for the compliment, Mede. Don't worry... I'll take good care of your people when I rule. They'll hunger for nothing."

"Because they would be dead," the Emperor said. He sighed. "Get on with it, monster."

"Gladly," I said. The Blade of Woe plunged into the Emperor's chest, and the ruler of Tamriel was no more.

"The Empire is dead." I mumbled to myself with a grin. I tore the Blade of Woe from the corpse's chest and took the Dragon Amulet from around his neck. I carefully draped it across my own shoulders. "Long live the Empire."


	26. The Companions

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I was a failure.

I had been a fool, blind to the danger and painful reality of the world. It seemed that there was no one I could save, no one that I could protect. By merely coming to Skyrim I had brought about the deaths of Lydia, Paarthurnax, and countless others. I had even allowed Ulfric's eternal soul to be destroyed.

I was no hero.

But I still had my honor. Such a thing was not easy to get rid of, and I found myself looking more and more for the kind of good, heroic work that would bring me happiness. I wanted to prove to myself that I could save someone_,_ _anyone. _And the best place for me to do that was with the Companions.

The Companions were a group as old as Men themselves, dating back to the first explorations of the Atmoran raiders fleeing their frozen homeland for Tamriel's shores. The group had come into conflict with the Snow Elves after the "Massacre of Saarthal," a monstrous event that set off a terrible war that would eventually end with the enslavement and devolution of the Falmer race by their Dwemer brethren. The Companions would eventually take up residence in the center of their new homeland, near a mystical monument known as the "Skyforge," famed even today for its properties regarding metals crafted upon it.

The mead hall created by the Companions, Jorvasskr, would stand since that time without ever being destroyed. Eventually, the bravery and honor of the warriors in defending the Men of Skyrim would become widely known, especially during the Dragon Wars, and a village sprung up around them for the protection the Companions brought. The village would eventually grow into a town, which would become a city, which would evolve quickly into a hold, which would become the trading hub for all of Skyrim: Whiterun.

For millennia, the Companions had defended Whiterun, and indeed Skyrim, against all manner of beasts. During the Oblivion Crisis the Companions single handedly fought back wave after wave of Daedra from the gates of many cities and saved countless lives in battles worthy of songs sung by gods. Many of the fallen had taken seats in Shor's hall, even a few of the non-Nord heroes of the crisis.

Yes, I decided, that was just the kind of group I needed to grow, to find myself with. The loss of so many because of my own failings was... I needed to fight _with_ others, not just for them. It seemed, to me, that the Companions were warriors of honor and skill. Better yet, my... past would not matter to them.

So as I entered the basement of the mead hall, looking for Kodlak Whitemane, the Harbinger of the Companions who had aided Tullius and Rikke in planning our assault on Vignar's Whiterun so long ago, I was filled with a feeling of hope that had left me some time ago. A fight had broken out between two of the warriors near the entrance, but it was, honestly, more like the wrestling of brothers than anything truly serious. It was as if the Companions were as much a family as a unit of warriors. Just rowdy, albeit dangerous, children in a drunken, happy family. I approached the door to Kodlak's chambers. They were closed.

"...still hear the call of the blood," a deep voice, a man's, said. It was broken, sad. I froze outside of the doorway. It would be wrong to intrude on such a conversation. I began to move, but froze as a wooden panel began to creak beneath my foot.

An older, still deeper voice replied. "We all do. It is our burden to bear, but we can overcome."

The first voice sighed. "You have my brother and I, obviously... But I don't know if the rest will go along quite so easily."

"Leave that to me," the older man replied. A brief pause. "You can enter the room, you know."

I groaned and pushed the door open. "I am sorry, Sir. I'm looking for Kodlak," I said, bowing.

"Ah, that would be me," the older of the two said, his gray hair in a wild, well, mane around his head. His eyes twinkled as he looked at me. "What is it that you are here for?"

"I... I have been told to speak with you. About joining the Companions," I replied. I fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Were you now?" the old man asked with a smile. He walked towards me. "Here let me have a look at you. Hm... yes, perhaps. A certain... strength of spirit."

The other man scoffed. "You want to take this man? I've never even heard of this outsider!"

Kodlak laughed, a boisterous, booming nose of pure mirth. "Vilkas, this is the Dragonborn. Savior of Skyrim. If you have not heard of him, perhaps you are not listening."

The younger man's face palled. "I... I expected you to be a Nord."

Kodlak laughed again, then turned to me. "Well, I have no doubt you are more than worthy in battle, boy. We would be honored to have you join. Speak to Vilkas here, he'll introduce you to everyone. And offer you work when you need it. Till next we meet." The old man bowed slightly and left the room, leaving me with the younger man and his worried, lupine eyes.

_**Jul **_– _**Zuspein**_

**Lucius**

The Companions' leaders, the Circle, held a terrible secret. Skjor, Aela, Vilkas, Farkas, even Kodlak... they were werewolves, beings cursed with the lycanthropy of Hircine. Skjor and Aela had offered me that... that curse. I, of course, had refused. "We will not force you to do this, Shield-Brother," the man had said. "But you cannot join us until you share in our blood."

As I recounted my recent dealings with the other members of the Circle to Kodlak, the old man was quiet. Calm. He frowned sadly as I came to a close. "Hm... it would seem that Skjor and Aela wish to elevate you without consulting me or Vilkas. I am glad you came to me, Luc."

"You are wise Kodlak," I remarked. I sighed. "What do I do? I came here... to be in a family, I suppose. But now it's as if I have to do this to become part of the family. And I – I don't want to give up being human. I don't want to give up Aetherius."

"Indeed, boy, I understand," the old man replied. He placed his hand on my shoulder and sighed somberly. "Indeed, I hold the same hopes. I dream of Sovngarde's mists, to see it as you did. I fear, as you do, that Shor will not take a beast."

"What should I do, Kodlak?" I asked again, defeated.

"You must do what you believe is right, Luc," the old man said reassuringly. He took his hand from my shoulder. "Whatever you choose, there is information I would have you know."

I looked up at the old man inquisitively. "What is it?" I asked.

"I am... close... to deciphering the power of this curse. I am loathe to involve Magick in our dealings, but it seems unavoidable," the old man said.

"I... know quite a bit about Magick, Harbinger," I told the man. He frowned. "Perhaps I can help? If you know the origins of the Circle's lycanthropy, please tell it to me."

The old man sighed. "Fine," he acquiesced. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Then: "The call of the blood is... new to the Companions. A fierce, if shortsighted, Harbinger many centuries ago begged a coven of Hircine worshiping witches to strengthen us so we may fight with the ferocity of nature at our call. He did not understand what the witches truly offered. He was deceived and, in gaining the strength of the wolf, Terrfyg sold his soul. He sold all of our souls."

I thought it over for a moment. "For many spells in which Magicka is channeled from a Daedra, or even an Aedra, through the body of a mortal, there is a certain amount of that spell, that Magicka, that will remain in the body of the mortal," I explained slowly as I came to a hypothesis. "It is much the same as how the Amulet of Kings, when worn by a Dragonborn Emperor, was capable of barring the path of the Daedra into Nirn. The Magicka was infused within those who channeled the spell. et'Adic , or Divine, Magicka usually accrues in the skull, within the brain, as this organ is the one responsible for Magicka generation, absorption, and channeling. It is likely that the Magicka you are seeking is contained within the skulls of these witches, or those of their descendants who continue to maintain the spell."

The old man's eyes lit up. "Y-you are sure of this? That the skulls of these _hags_ are the key to a cure?"

I frowned. "It's a hypothesis – a good one at that. But... still, it's only off the top of my head. There should be some information in the Jarl's personal library, or perhaps with his court wizard, Farengar. Failing that, you could probably get some books on loan from the College," I explained. The man's expression deflated. "Though, I am quite sure that my hypothesis is valid."

Kodlak sighed. "This may take some time, Luc," he said. He looked up at me. "I will be busy studying this. I... I know it is much to ask. And, if you say no, I will understand."

"I would do anything for a Shield-Brother," I replied.

The man smiled sadly. "I was afraid of that. I need you to watch Skjor and Aela. They take... vehemently to the beast blood. But to watch them..."

"I would need to join the Circle. To become a werewolf," I replied somberly. I frowned. Then I looked up at Kodlak, beaming. "Well, we'll have the cure in a few months anyways. I think I can survive that long for a friend."

Kodlak smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Shield-Brother."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I was rather enjoying this. It was my first contract since I had taken the lives of the Emperor and that damn fool Breton. The Brotherhood, specifically the one responsible for the Emperor's death – _me_ – had been hired by some anti-werewolf group to kill one of the most dangerous werewolf warriors in all of Skyrim. The payment was amazing, to say the least. On top of that, I had heard whispers that _he_ had joined the Companions, of whom the werwolf was the leader. I could never pass up another chance to demoralize _him_, crush him before our final battle to the death. It would make it all the more delicious and all the easier. Despite that, I desperately wanted to kill him as I saw him grinning and rushing from the moronic mead hall of the Companions.

Today was not that day, however.

I blended nicely into the shadows, my cloak wrapping around my Brotherhood armor and obscuring me even further. The twin moons glowed ominously in the sky, illuminating just enough to cast attention away from what lurked in the darkness. When I entered the brightly lit hall itself, the drunken revelry was more than enough to distract attention away from me. I slipped quietly, unnoticed down the stairs towards Kodlak's quarters. With luck, he would die screaming. Without luck, this would be easy and I could kill him in his sleep. Regardless, I had a note of blame to leave and shards of a weapon to steal.

The weapon itself gave me cause for fear. I had to steal the shards and deliver them to the Silver Hand, and was glad to do so. The shards of the ax Wuuthrad, if combined, would craft a weapon that had bathed in the blood of countless Mer. The blades of the ax had become infused, legends say, with the hatred and pain of the Men who wielded it and the Mer who fell to it over the eras. It was mystically enchanted with an inherent poison, when complete, to all Mer. It was our weakness as crafted by ancient blood Magicks. Yes, I would be glad if it was no longer on the playing field to threaten my coming Empire.

I crept quietly into Kodlak's room, twin daggers drawn and ready to kill. "You did not really believe you could sneak up on a wolf, did you?" a deep voice asked from behind me. The doors to the room slammed shut and an old, but no less imposing, Nord stood with blade and shield drawn. His blonde-gray beard connected with his hair to form a lions mane around his head. He glared angrily at me and raised his blade towards me. "So you are the Listener I have heard tell of. But tell me, do you hear the anger of the gods at your actions?"

"I am still alive, am I not?" I asked. This lowly human thought to defeat _me_? "Does that not show the favor of the gods?"

"I have heard Lucius speak of you, Elf," Kodlak replied sadly. "What a wasted gift. A Dragonborn without conscience."

"Oh, are you going to get preachy now?" I retorted, drawing small displays of ire from the werewolf. "Or are you going to show me _real_ power? Are you going to try and break me like the animal you are?"

"Enough!" Kodlak roared, rushing forward with his blade. The human would have been a skilled match, had he maintained a grip on his rage. As I had drawn out his considerable anger, however, his moves grew sloppier and more direct. I easily sidestepped every blow that came my way, laughing as I did.

"Why don't you turn? Make quick work of me, eh?" I asked as I danced beneath another of his blows. My dagger kissed the skin of his side, drawing blood. "Big bad wolf afraid he'll blow the house down?"

"I said enough, Milk-drinker!" The werewolf grunted in rage and brought his shield down where I stood. I moved quickly to the side and laughed. He slashed at my head. I ducked beneath and laughed again. He was tiring himself out as he swung at me, each attack growing weaker and weaker.

"I think you'll enjoy Hircine's playground, fool," I told the man as I slashed my dagger through his thumb. He grunted in pain and dropped his sword. "It's the perfect place for a lowly animal." I brought the dagger down and Kodlak was no more.

"Well... what a beautiful hunt," an ethereal voice moaned as the light left Kodlak's eyes. "Artfully done, Mortal. I applaud you and your strength in the hunt."

"Who is this?" I asked quietly.

"Ah, you may know me by many names. The Wolf. Hunter. _Hircine_," the voice replied. "You have gained my favor, little mortal. That is not easy to do..."

"Is there a prize for this victory then?" I asked as I sheathed my blades.

"Oh, indeed," the voice of Hircine replied. A second skin seemed to melt from Kodlak's body, a hide of fur and leather. "Take the Hide of this coward that you may hunt with glory, little mortal. And know I will always be watching, waiting for your next prey to fall." The voice receded.

I leaned down and picked up the hide, leaving the Silver Hand's note in its place. The hide was a piece of armor, crafted and blessed by the Daedric Lord himself whose favor I had just earned. Feral eyes gleamed out of the armor's chest and a barbaric wolf seemed to be found in every facet of the armor. It was hunting incarnate. I folded the garment around my hips, not knowing where else to put it at that moment. The brown skirt hid easily beneath my cloak and I quietly slunk away to claim the shards of Wuuthrad for my employers.

_**Jul **_– _**Ysgramor Qoth**_

**Lucius**

I had failed yet again. Those had been the first words through my mind as I saw the broken body of Kodlak and the stolen pieces of Wuuthrad. I had not been present, I had not been able to defend him against the assassin. It was just like the death of Titus II. So I had claimed some measure of justice with Vilkas, reclaiming Wuuthrad's pieces and destroying all of the Silver Hand that remained. From the fires of Kodlak's funeral pyre, Wuuthrad was reforged, more glorious than before. I had been saddened that Kodlak could not see it restored, but took a measure of comfort in the fact that his soul had been partially etched into the metal itself, forever to watch over the Companions even in their darkest hours.

And there was a way to save his soul from Hircine completely. Prior to his death, Kodlak had sent me to retrieve the heads of the Glenmoril Witches; my hypothesis regarding their Magicka had been correct. There were four, only enough to cure all of the Circle save one. Aela made it abundantly clear she had no wish to become human again, for Hircine's hunting grounds held all she desired. But she would not deny Sovngarde to Kodlak, it was his heart's greatest desire.

So there we stood, Aela and I, in the presence of Kodlak – and, he said, countless other Harbingers of the Companions – ready to defy the will of a god. All I had to do to save Kodlak was to throw one of the heads upon the fire. "Aela, go get Farkas and Vilkas. I don't care how much they complain, just bring them here. They deserve to bring peace to the man that raised them."

Aela froze, unsure if she should take orders from me. I had only been in the Companions for a few short months, after all. In the Circle, I was the whelp. She glanced towards Kodlak, who nodded graciously. The woman's body language calmed and she ran off to fulfill my request. "So here we are," I told the ghost of the man before me.

"Indeed."

It was silent for a moment. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Kodlak," I sobbed. "Forgive me."

"For what, Shield-Brother?" he inquired, honestly confused.

"I was not there to protect you. I failed in my duties," I told him.

Kodlak considered this for a moment, then laughed boisterously. "Nay, you failed no one, Lucius," he said, causing my violent sobs to stop. "And, from your stories of the deaths of Lydia and Paarthurnax, you did not fail them either. They were felled only by the one who felled me, who failed the gods. They died with honor because they believed in you. As did I."

I sighed and looked at my feet as my fears were confirmed. "It was Thera, wasn't it?"

Kodlak nodded somberly. "Aye. But worry not. The Harbingers, even here, hear the whispers of Shor on occasion. Man and Mer approach war once more, Dragonborn Harbinger, and you may hold the key to ending that war. For which side, I do not know. Shor's prophecies elude us, friend."

I sighed, then looked up in surprise. "You called me Harbinger..."

Kodlak nodded, eyes closed. "Aye. I rarely had dreams in life, Lucius, so I know that the ones I receive hold great meaning. You – I saw you long before I met you. You were always destined for this. For the post of guiding the Companions back to glory."

"Aye, that I agree, Kodlak," Vilkas said as he entered, his brother and Aela close by. He smiled sadly. "I thought to never see you again, old friend."

Kodlak smiled back fondly. "I feared as much, as well, my sons," Kodlak replied. The spirit seemed ready to cry. "I always knew you would be present at this moment, though. You honor me."

"And you us, Kodlak," Farkas replied gruffly, but softer than his usual tone. I thought I even glanced a single tear stain drifting down his cheek, but it could have been my imagination.

I smiled, appreciating that I was present for such a moment. "Are we all ready?" I asked.

"Aye. I'm ready to go home, Dragonborn," Kodlak replied. I tossed one of the witch heads tied to my ebony belt into the Flame of the Harbingers. Magicka exploded outward, the purple, mystical flames in the center of the room suddenly shifting color and shape into a pillar of green. The room itself seemed to shake with apprehension. Kodlak was suddenly screaming on the ground, the shape of a wolf slowly dragging itself from his soul. I drew my blade, followed quickly by the rest of the circle.

"As one!" I screamed as the wolf finally tore itself free from Kodlak. We rushed forwards, our blades dancing around and through the ghostly creature. It whined and growled, its huge teeth snapping at our throats, its claws tearing at our skin. But we pressed on for Kodlak. We were there to save him from a deal that should never have been made.

So we did. Valor, for once, was enough to save another. Finally, I had succeeded in fulfilling the oaths sworn in the shadow of honor itself. Kodlak's wolf spirit breathed its last, and was banished back to Hircine's Hunting Grounds. The Circle, as one, sheathed their blades. "And so slain the beast inside of me. I thank you for this gift," Kodlak told us. He smiled most broadly upon the men he had raised from boys. "The other Harbingers remain trapped by Hircine, though. Perhaps from Sovngarde, the heroes of old can join me in their rescue. The Harrowing of the Hunting Grounds. It would be a battle of such triumph. And perhaps some day, you'll join us in that battle. But for today, return to Jorrvaskr. Triumph in your victory. And lead the Companions to further glory." With that, the spirit of Kodlak finally reached Sovngarde.

Soon, the rest of the Circle began to explore the rest of the ruins, studying the ancient histories of our order and the Men we had followed. Heroes, past and future, that adorned the walls. I, however, turned my attention back to the pillar of fire at the center of the room. I became eerily aware of the ghostly eyes whose attention was fixed upon me, unblinking from across the planes of Oblivion. The Fire of the Harbingers, my predecessors, blazed brilliantly before me. I could be human again, truly human.

There was nothing I would rather be. I tore another head from my belt and tossed it into the indigo flame.


	27. The Thieves' Guild

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I followed Mercer Frey, leader of the Thieves' Guild, through the winding tunnels of the Nordic tomb of Snow Veil Sanctum. We had been accosted by countless Draugr over the past hours, often roused from their sleep by way of traps left by a traitorous thief, one who had killed the former leader of the guild. A Dunmer, I was led to believe; Karliah, or some such.

The web around the rumor mill stated the woman had been the previous Guildmaster's whore – as any Mer who would sink to laying with a human is. Over time, it would seem she regained some sense of dignity, however; her boldness restored, Karliah had assassinated the man and tried to kill Mercer as well. When she failed in murdering her colleague, she fled, apparently taking thousands of Septims with her. The Thieves' Guild had not been the same since, broken and defeated at every turn. Many blamed Magick, Daedra, hell, even the Aedra made their way into the conversation at times.

Personally, I was of the belief that Karliah had not abandoned her plans for dominion over the Thieves' Guild. Many jobs had been botched, many Septims stolen, and many plans undone since before I arrived amongst the Thieves. The question was not _if_ there was a traitor amongst the Guild, it was _who_ the traitor was. I truly admired how dedicated and skilled they were when it came to their cover, honestly even I could learn a few things from them.

"Let's get a move on, dammit," the irritable Guildmaster snapped. I snarled silently behind the man, my eyes fixed angrily on the back of his graying head. Once we killed Karliah within the Sanctum's... well, inner sanctum, I would kill the moronic Man and lay the blame at the dead woman's feet. I would become Guildmaster with only a few minor assassinations, a duel or two, and the Thieves' Guild would serve me. Crime across the Empire would catapult to new levels, bringing the rotting corpse of Septim's work to the ash it should have been decades ago. "Karliah could be setting up a trap!"

"I'm sure that's a given, Frey," I retorted. The blade in my hand twitched, hungry for Mercer's blood. I wanted – _needed_ to kill the fool who could not see he was being betrayed, likely by those closest to him. My money was on Brynjolf, maybe Mallory. Never trust a Man, especially a thieving Man.

Mercer turned angrily towards me. "Don't backtalk, Girlie," he snapped. He glared at me for a moment, then turned and began to examine the Nordic Puzzle Door that we had parked ourselves in front of for the past few minutes.

"There's no claw here – we can't open the door," I insisted. "There has to be a way into the room from elsewhere."

Mercer laughed as he examined the door. "Ha! Girlie, there's a trick to these doors," Frey responded condescendingly. I felt like separating his head from his shoulders as it looked down on me. "You just have to... HA!" The door slid open as Frey slid his hands down the stone, the images spinning in rapid succession towards the image of a horned owl. Frey turned to me. "You first."

I narrowed my eyes, but nodded. "Fine. Let's go."

**Ten Minutes Later**

"How interesting," Mercer sneered down at me, a poison arrow in my gut and his blade at my throat, "It appears Gallus's history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place. But do you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was all possible because of you. Farewell. I'll be certain to give Brynjolf your regards."

"Oblivion... take... you..." I snarled through my gritted teeth. The paralytic in my bloodstream was keeping me from moving, almost at all.

Mercer laughed. "Not for some time, Girlie." Then his blade entered my gut and the world went black.

My eyes snapped open. Dull pain throbbed in my side. "Easy, don't get up so quickly. How're you feeling?"

My gaze snapped towards the Dark elf with violet eyes – Karliah. She was crouching in front of a storage chest, packing a pouch with gold, food, and scrolled paper. My hand went to the blade at my hip – it was gone. "You shot me!" I tried to get to my feet, but quickly stumbled back to my ass.

"No, I saved your life. My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out. Had I intended to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Karliah pointed out. "I don't miss." She stood up and placed a hand on her hip, the other hanging with a black sword in her grip.

I glared at her, my vision jumping between her honest eyes and dishonest blade. "Then... why save me?" I asked, deciding to play along. Her violet eyes hinted at the impurities in her ancestry – damnable human ancestry.

"My original intention was to use that arrow on Mercer, but I never had a clear shot. I made a split second decision to get you out of the way and it prevented your death," she responded. Her grip on her blade relaxed, but she still kept it ready to swing at a moment's notice.

I narrowed my eyes and stared at the ground. "You should have shot Mercer," I responded bitterly. I would kill that fool for crossing me.

"I promise you, the thought crossed my mind. The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect; I only had enough for one shot," Karliah explained. She glanced away from me as a wolf howled, then placed her saber back into its sheathe. "I wanted to capture the damn traitor alive, make him answer for what he's done. Pay for Gallus' murder."

"The Guild will demand proof," I pointed out. "Thieves aren't exactly the... trusting sort."

Karliah laughed dryly at that. "Indeed. Well, using Gallus' place of death for my ambush provided me a chance to get proof. Gallus' journal, I recovered it from his remains. I suspect the information I need – we need, now – is inside."

"We?"

"You really think Frey didn't label you a traitor as well? Nocturnal isn't granting him any luck right now, and he would hedge his bets anyways," Karliah responded with an angry grimace. The image of Mercer, tortured at her feet, flashed through her violet eyes. She spoke absently: "Unfortunately, the journal is in some language I've never seen. We need to get to Winterhold – Gallus had a friend at the College who could tell us about it. Enthir is one of the few Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity."

"Nightingale?" I asked, truly intrigued. It held a shiver of Magickal power in every letter.

"Don't worry about it, not right now," Karliah responded, her attention back on reality. "We need to hurry to Winterhold."

"Fine, but I expect the full story. I will not be kept waiting forever, Karliah," I hissed threateningly. Even with me in my injured state, Karliah seemed to take a step backwards. I struggled to my feet, clutching my side, and placed my weapons back on my belt. "Now, let's go."

**Winterhold**

The town was a mess straight out of Oblivion, and that would have been without whatever the hell was happening at that moment. Mages from the college – including a certain enemy of mine – were battling against ethereal wraiths assaulting the human fools of the city. The creatures seemed to be sucking the Soul Energy from the bodies of their victims, finally killing them as the last vestige of their being was ripped from their bodies with screams of unending agony. The kind of agony I thought only _I_ could inflict upon a human. "What in Oblivion is this?" Karliah asked as we rushed past one of the battles and towards the inn. Our blades were drawn, ready to defend against whatever this threat was.

"That's not important now. Leave that to these morons to deal with," I said, gesturing at the mages around the town. "Where is Enthir?"

The Dunmer shook her head exasperatedly, then gazed at each mage in turn. Her eyes lingered on Lucius' face, flickers of that Aedric Magick both he and I carry running through her eyes. Finally: "There are only about three mages down here. It's likely he's up at the College right now and only members can go up there..." Karliah cursed to herself. "We're going to have to wait this storm out and find the damned Wood Elf later..."

I laughed once, "Oh, that's not an option," I said with a cruel smile I sheathed my blades. "Damn the College and damn their problems. Enthir is going to have to... temporarily abandon his duties. Wait here for me, I'll be back soon." Thus, despite Karliah's protestations, I went off to kidnap a wizard.

Whatever was assaulting the College went far beyond the devastation that was rocking the township below. Massive waves of visible, pure Magick exploded outward from the central building of the Mages' College. Mages and wizards all around struggled against the foreign Magicka as it assaulted their own, warping reality around them and dragging fragments of Oblivion into Nirn. A Dremora here, a shard of Coldharbour there.

The memory of a report I read almost two years ago flashed through my mind. "... Ancano has been planted within the College. Thus far, no secrets of any true value have been unearthed by him, but he seems certain that the College holds secrets of great value, especially Savos Aren. He feels that the exploration of Saarthal, a nearby Nordic Ruin, could provide great insight into ancient and forgotten Magicks of the Snow Elves in their war with the Atmorans. Perhaps give us a way to... exterminate the humans' savage descendants like the plague they are." The author of the report was, perhaps, prone to overt poetic language, but he was correct in his assumptions – apparently. This Magick seemed even more dangerous than Ancano had believed, in fact it seemed to be nearly capable of upending the very foundations of Nirn laid by the Aedra before creation itself. Such power was uncontrollable, even I would not seek it out like that fool Ancano.

But I could not bother myself with such world ending trivialities. Lucius, as much as I despised him, was as bound by fate as I. He would overcome the Pyrrhic success of Ancano and ensure the world would survive. That the Council would again be brought to its knees by the sheer publicity and ineptitude of Ancano's attempt at harnessing such Magick was merely a boon of which I would gladly take advantage at my earliest convenience. No, the issue at hand was pressing to me personally. I stood to the side of the courtyard, keeping my gaze locked on the elf who was obviously Enthir. He was standing apart from his peers, only casting cursory half examinatory spells towards the Magicka wall before him. It was a simple matter to walk quickly and quietly behind the awestruck wizards and grab Enthir by the mouth, stifling his scream. I dragged him down to the inn where Karliah waited.

_**Fahiil **_– _**Just South of Riften**_

**Thera**

Brynjolf, Karliah, and I stood together in the heart of the Nightingale's home, all three wearing the Thief-Warriors' customary armor. Brynjolf's eyes twinkled white behind his mask, stars in the obsidian sea of his skull. Even behind the cloth snaking over his features, I could tell that Bryn's face was plastered with sarcastic inquiry. "Okay, Lass, we've got these getups on... now what?"

Karliah sighed. Her hood was hanging from her shoulders, so her face was visible. She seemed... exhausted. "Beyond this gate is the first step towards becoming a Nightingale," Karliah said. My eyes widened behind my mask, and my mind raced into overdrive. I ignored the conversation that erupted between my peers.

The Nightingales were the servants of Nocturnal, that much Karliah had revealed. She was holding something else back, some other reason for hating Mercer. She was a Thief with a dead lover, but that Nocturnal would still rely so heavily on her, a failure, insinuated that there was something even more valuable that gold or love or honor at play.

Daedra often play god, as they are, in the world of mortals. Treating us like chess pieces – no, perhaps more like checkers. Get far enough and they'll bestow favor upon you, Magickal items and powers that can alter the very fabric of reality around their user. Blades of power, skins of Werewolves, staffs that bring pure madness into the world to name just a few. I had already accrued quite a few of these items for myself, just as Lucius – given the rumors – had. Nocturnal...

Nocturnal was no different from the other Daedra. Unfortunately, pledging myself to her in this manner would likely require some terrible price. Daedra do not let mortals have the good end of the deal unless it benefits their own causes. No, Nocturnal would ask something of me that I am sure I do not want to give. I already knew _where_ Frey was going to be. That knowledge wouldn't leave my head. Why? Why wouldn't it leave?

Then it hit me. The Guild Treasury had been swept clean. Nothing was left, no gold, no weapons, no contracts. The door required _two_ keys, of which Mercer had none. Brynjolf and Mallory carried the two keys. Mallory's was too... intimately hidden for it to have been stolen off of him. No, Frey unlocked the door alone with neither key. Only Nocturnal's Skeleton Key was capable of such things. Legend held it was capable of much more, actually. A tool for a master thief, for an assassin. I laughed, causing the conversation between Karliah and Brynjolf to come to a screeching halt. "What is it, Lass?" the man asked.

I laughed again and tore the masked hood from my face. I smiled in triumph. "You two can do this... stupidity. Nocturnal and all that. The cost – I wasn't paying attention, really, if you already said it – is going to be very high. Then it occurred to me, Karliah," I said, smiling with mock sweetness at the surprised Dunmer. "Nocturnal is a Daedra. Daedra hate being double crossed, but they hate failure more. You failed. Why forgive you? Why do you keep her favor? Hm?"

Karliah had no answer. Brynjolf tried for her, "Lass, who cares? We need her help!"

I smirked at the Man. "Do I?" I asked. I laughed again. "Have fun trading... whatever it is you are going to trade, _Lass. Lad_. I will be taking the Skeleton Key for myself." I spun on my heel, ignoring the stare of rage and betrayal that Karliah was burning into my skull.

"Have you no honor!?" Karliah shouted finally.

"Amongst Thieves?" I asked without turning back. I laughed a single, dry laugh. "Never."


	28. College of Winterhold

**AN: Hey everyone. Sorry this one took longer; I had it a bit ready already but life is getting hectic. College just began and homework is already crazy, so these chapters will not be on the usual quick fire pace that they usually are. Also, we are entering Dawnguard proper, as you'll see at the end of this chapter, so I'll be taking more time in order to spread the questline out.**

**As I have learned from the reviews, everyone hates Thera. Good, cause if you sympathized with her that would be scary. For everyone that likes Lucius, I'm sorry. But, hey, he's not in the worst place right now, right?**

**Finally, thank you for reading. I love all the reviews. Please leave more. **

_**Jul **_– _**Lahzeyro Mindaziir**_

**Lucius**

Apparently, when Kodlak had visited the Mage's College in Winterhold to search for the evidence that would support – or disprove – my hypothesis regarding the Curse of the Glenmoril Coven. During his tenure as Harbinger, Kodlak had met Savos Aren a few times; a clever man and brave Mer, though as any other Companion would say, "Too bad he's a damn wizard." While inquiring about the Curse with Archmage Aren and the Arcanaest Orc named Urag, Kodlak had been kind enough to mention my name as the author of the theory.

About half a month after Kodlak's death, a messenger from the College showed up. It was a rare thing, apparently, to send out an invitation to the College; it is open to any who would take it upon themselves to enter the College should they merely make the trip. That they would alter their standard method of recruitment showed that they believed me to be one of the greatest Mages in the hold. My grasp of Magickal theory and Mage warfare is pretty good – I'd say I'm in the running for top Mage in the Tamriel.

I, having the luck of someone cursed a thousand times over, immediately became embroiled in the most dangerous things ever. Trouble seemed to follow me like it followed the Nerevarine or Hero of Kvatch. Maybe worse. I, along with the rest of the recent entrants of the College, were chaperoned to Saarthal.

Saarthal was the first city of the Atmorans in Skyrim. The first few hundred that fled the freezing of their homeland with Ysgramor had made camp there, a few decades before the founding of Jorvasskr. Saarthal was also the site of a terrible massacre, the opening salvo in the war between Atmoran and Falmer that would eventually end in the devolution from Snow Elf to eyeless beast. Over time, the tragedy and passage of Akatosh's domain would cause the location of the crypt to be forgotten for millennia, until a powerful Magickal force began to pull every Mage in the college towards it.

In the furthest reaches of the crypt, I was greeted by a yellow clad Mage-Monk. A Psijic. The Psijics were an ancient order of Magicka users. The best analogy would likely be to call it the first Mage's Guild, but more elitist. The Psijics had been an order of Altmer living on the Summerset Isle until the rise of the Dominion about two hundred years ago. As soon as the Thalmor took over the Altmer race, the Psijics disappeared, recognizing the insanity that had become prevalent in their brethren. They didn't get out much anymore, so when they decided to warn me that opening Saarthal had brought a great threat to the world, I listened.

I was soon introduced to a level of Magick that terrified me. Deep within Saarthal was a Magickal artifact. The higher ups at the College were quick to deny the rumors that had sprung up around the green orb that had been discovered, but they could do little to prevent the spread of the name. The Eye of Magnus. Magnus, the et'Ada who had broken through the Planes of reality during creation to forge the sun of Nirn. The same god who was the very source of Magicka itself, and we had found one of his most powerful artifacts, something on par with the power of the Wabbajack, stronger even.

Tullius has been doing his best to keep things stable in Skyrim. High Queen Elisif's respect for the man and his loyalty to her during the Civil War had gone a long way to keeping some measure of loyalty to the Empire. Still, with the Emperor dead and the Elder Council struggling to even keep the day to day of the Empire moving... Things were looking bad for the Empire, and I was terrified of what that could mean. Tullius hadn't even heard from the Council in weeks; Cyrodiil had gone silent.

That is, until the news of the Eye spread beyond Skyrim's borders. A crazy group of Political Lobbyists called the Synod from Cyrodiil marched into the province, asking for help from the College to perform some sort of experiment. College turned them away, but it turned out they hadn't left Skyrim. Archmage Aren, the Psijics, and a puzzling creature that seemed to know everything yet be completely useless at the same time, all sent me on a goose chase around Skyrim.

And, on top of all that, there was a damnable Thalmor at the College. Ancano was a tall, yellow-skinned bastard. Milk-drinker, as my Nord friends would say. The Mer just had a slimy, conniving, begging to be killed face. Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to kill him. Thalmor bastard...

Of course, not being allowed to kill the jerk had a definite downside. He found a way to unlock the power of the Eye of Magnus, and suddenly Ancano had enough power to destroy the world. In his mind, specifically the human parts of it. In reality... all of it. The fabric of Nirn itself began to degrade around the College, drawing what I believe to be incredibly weak et'Ada – stars, if you will – into the mortal world. These beings, likely unnerved and in incredible pain from being displaced forcibly from an entirely different reality, began to assault mortals wherever they found them. Mortals, it is believed, are the descendants – physically and spiritually – of the Aedra. This means that the Magicka of the Souls our frail bodies house are like Aedric Magicka, in a way. The et'Adic beings... devoured it whole. A terrifyingly large percentage of the ailing Hold Capital died in the attack before the College was able to destroy the rift. And one of the older Mages disappeared, an Elf named Enthir.

And Archmage Aren was murdered.

Ancano's usage of the Eye, in its earliest stages, was incredibly unstable. Powerful, but unstable. Magickal power rolled off of him in waves that nearly shattered the ancient stone of the College itself. The resulting explosion opened temporal rifts in reality around Archmage Aren, his second in command, and myself. Aren didn't make it back out alive, Mirabelle Ervine, his Second, was injured, and I was knocked unconscious. And then... I was sent to the Labyrithian, an ancient Magickal tomb, to obtain the one thing capable of neutralizing the Eye. Again, Magnus himself was playing in Mortal affairs – I had to obtain his Staff.

And, I learned, I was following in the footsteps of the Archmage. He, as a student, had attempted to find his way through the Labyrinthian with his class of peers. One by one, an ancient, cruel Mage murdered them. A Dragon Priest named Morokei, who wielded the power of the Staff in conjunction with that of the Voice to devour the Magicka of the Students. Aren, in a terrible move, killed his only remaining friends in order to set up a Soul Barrier that would prevent Morokei's escape.

I was starting to understand why he did that. "You are not Aren," the blue masked monster snarled as the barrier holding him disappeared. Magickal energy poured from him like a waterfall – perhaps more accurately from the staff. The Draugr landed on the ground and stared up at me from across the room. The staff, which had an orb not unlike the Eye atop it, crackled eagerly. "Where is he?"

"I'm surprised to see you care," I told the monster. My Breton blood gave me an edge against the creature: I was resistant to Magick. Combined with the enchantments done on my armor, I had a chance against the Dragon Priest. Miniscule, but I take what I can get. "The Archmage is dead."

"Archmage?" Morokei asked, laughing in disbelief. "_Peh tey hi sook_. That child could not be Archmage!"

I snarled. "_Tol kiir viik hi_," I retorted. My grip on the Daedric blade tightened.

Morokei stared at me. The mask hid his emotions, if he even had any, but his body language was intrigued. His gaze scanned across my body. "Ah, _yol do dovah nahkip hin sil, Dovahkiin,_" Morokei said. He laughed savagely. "That you are alive informs me of your cowardice. Run, _Dovahkiin_, and wait for the king of all to end you."

"King of -" I shook my head as I began to understand. "You mean Alduin? Oh, I put him in the ground almost a year ago. Died like a coward, he did!"

Morokei shook. "No! You lie, craven fool!" the Dragon Priest shrieked. He began to hover above the ground. "_Zu'u fen miik hin sil fah ok daal_!" The Dragon Priest flew through the air, across the gap between us, and collided with me. I was thrown backwards by the force of the hit and collided with the stone wall behind me. I barely raised a ward in time for a lightning bolt to bounce off of it instead of through my skull. "Why would you claim such a thing, _meyye_!?"

"Well, I'm not usually the boastful type, so... because it's true?" I suggested. The wall of energy in my hand changed form, becoming a stream of fire that caused the Dragon Priest to shriek and stumble backwards. "Besides, once I kill you too, you'll get to see him again. You can start an afterlife club about how much you hate me. You should make matching Dragonhide cloaks to really sell it!" I jumped to my feet and ran towards the undead being. He shrieked and summoned a Storm Atronach to attack me. I ignored it, running instead towards the Dragon Priest. The monster's ability to absorb Magicka, as he had often done while I traversed the tomb, would be negated by my skill with the blade. And it was.

I often become surprised by how far my strength has gone. Though, to be fair, I did kill Alduin, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised. It merely took a single swipe of my blade to carve through Morokei's neck and end the fight. The Storm Atronach disappeared as its master's remaining life force faded away. I grabbed the ritual Mask and the Staff of Magnus and turned to go. "_Meyye._"

_**Jul **_– _**Zuspein**_

**Lucius**

The wind whipped violently around Winterhold. I squinted and covered my eyes, as the snowflakes in the air snapped violently about in the wind and cut through flesh. The et'Adic Magicka that was causing the frenzied blizzard froze any attempt I made at generating a flame to protect me from the flames. It was terrible, and I wasn't even in the Hold's capital yet; I hoped the – and, forgive the pun, please forgive the pun – eye of the storm would be a place more amenable to Magicka usage. "What are you doing?"

With a jolt, I turned and glared at the source of the voice. My vision was blurred from squinting and, you know, the blizzard, but I knew who it was. "It's you..."

The black-clad warrior shrugged. His silver ring of hair ruffled lightly in the screaming wind. "That is indeed who I am. Me."

I growled and brought my hand down from my face. My hood whipped around, nearly coming off of my head multiple times. "Who are you? Why were you at the Palace of the Kings?"

"Are these really questions that need to be asked right now, boy?" the man asked. He stood there, eyes into the wind without blinking. The wind even seemed to quiet down around him, the blizzard not even present on his skin. One of his dark eyebrows was raised. I stood stone still. "The world's falling apart around you and you want to know about an old man? Eh, wouldn't expect anything different from a Mage. Knowledge is in your blood, as it were."

I glared at the man. The Staff of Magnus in my left hand glowed, the eery green conveying a sense of familiarity. "Well, okay. I'll tell you who I am. My name is Wulf. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I would have narrowed my eyes distrustfully if they weren't already almost closed, pained as they were from the storm. "Not good enough. But It'll have to do," I stated. Then I turned from the man and began struggling once again towards Winterhold.

"Wow. You really like taking the hard road, don't you?" Wulf asked, now from in front of me.

"Wait, how'd you –?"

"I mean, for a Mage, you do not have a great memory," Wulf continued through my question. "Let's see, you were in Windhelm... then you weren't. Sounds Magickal, doesn't it?"

I hissed and continued to walk past Wulf. "Ugh, this is going to take forever," Wulf groaned. He cracked his knuckled and sighed. "Is something wrong? Do you not want me to help you for some reason?"

"Magicka isn't working in this storm," I responded. Wulf didn't move as I walked towards him. The glow from the Staff was nearly blinding now. "Move."

Wulf shook his head and snapped his fingers; the storm stopped. "What in Oblivion?" I asked the air. I looked around in disbelief, then back at Wulf. He had controlled the Magicka from the Eye. "A-are you Magnus?"

"W-what?" Wulf asked. He laughed heartily. "No, I'm not some god that ran away from Nirn with his tail between his legs. I'm a Man."

"An incredibly powerful one, I suppose," I remarked.

"Magick is pretty powerful if you understand it the way I do," Wulf replied quietly. He frowned and stared at the ground. "Get going. The Staff should be able to clear up any other weather or Magickal walls you come across. One last thing – don't die. There's too much in this world depending on you making it out, including Magnus' sphere of influence." Wulf snapped his fingers again, and he was gone. Just a Man, eh? I wasn't completely sure of that.

_**Fahiil**_

**Ancano**

The Altmer was ecstatic as the energy of a god flowed into his veins, granting him intense Magickal power that was changing him by the second. No longer was he some mere mortal, no, Ancano had become so much more. He had achieved what the Mer had sought since their birth: Immortality. He had become akin to the Aedra, to the Ancestors. With such power he _was_ a god, truly apotheosized. He would show the foolish Men that their god was false – _he_ was Talos now!

And the Aldmeri Council? The slow moving fools would be swept away. An Empire on Nirn was a position only truly fit for a Divine, after all. Yes, Ancano would first claim the White-Gold Tower in Cyrodiil, then exterminate any who would oppose him within the Dominion itself. Yes, soon it would all belong to Ancano, god of Mer!

"Ancano!"

The Mer snarled. Disgusted, he replied, "You..."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The Staff of Magnus virtually contained a small lightning storm within and around its focal crystal as I entered the main hall of the College where the Eye was being kept. Tolfdir, one of the senior wizards at the College, stood next to me, ready to fight. I glared past the Eye at Ancano, and my sword trembled with rage in my hand. "Ancano!" I screamed as I entered, my voice filled with retribution.

The elf snarled uninterestedly and glanced over at me. "You... The Psijics' pet wizard," Ancano said, disgusted. He hadn't stopped channeling the Eye's power as he talked to us. He was over confident. "It's too late, you cannot stop me."

"Then stop yourself," Tolfdir begged. "Tamriel is falling apart! Daedra are slipping through the cracks, Ancano!"

"Be quiet, fool," Ancano snapped. A tendril of the white lightning channeling from the Eye branched off and Tolfdir was thrown across the room. I looked worriedly over at the man's crumpled form. I'd have to help him once this was all over. Ancano smiled and looked at me again. "You have the Staff. Good. Saves me the trouble of hunting it down."

"I'm going to stop you," I told the insane elf. He laughed in response and continued absorbing the energy of the Eye. The crystal on the Staff was whining audibly now, vibrating against its restraints. I raised my sword to Ancano's throat. "Surrender or die. Your choice."

Ancano glanced down at the sword and smiled haughtily. "I doubt that," he said. He stopped channeling the Magicka of Magnus and turned towards me. He took a step forward, his neck touching the sword... and I moved back. I was being pushed back by a wall of pure Magicka, as if there was nothing I could do to harm the elf. He had achieved, I posited, Immortality. "Yes, I have. Achieved Immortality, that is."

My eyes widened in fear. He could – "Read your mind? Yes, the power of a Divine is an incredible thing, fool," Ancano spat. He raised his hand and launched a fireball towards me. I was only barely able to move out of the way. "I must not have taken enough of its power to alter your mind, however. Oh well, I'll guess I'll settle for killing you."

I gasped and threw myself to the side, barely escaping the ball of lightning the would be god threw at me. The stone where I had stood sizzled, melted in the shape of Ancano's Magickal attack. I doubted Ancano's assertion he had not taken enough of the Eye's energy; if he was immortal, he could alter mortal's minds. The only thing keeping me alive and free was the Staff, I later thought. At the moment, all I could do was run and try to come up with a way to stop Ancano.

"You cannot survive forever, slave!" Ancano shouted. I ignored his comment and continued to concentrate while I fled his attacks. The Staff was the answer, the Augur of Dunlain had said as much. In order to survive the onslaught I had to understand why.

I considered things for a moment, then smiled. Ancano's eyes widened in fear. "The Staff..." he whispered fearfully. I smiled and pointed the beam of wood at the Eye. "No..."

"Yes," I responded. The Magicka of the Eye began to disappear, slowly being neutralized and drained by the Staff itself. Ancano stumbled as the Magicka flowing through his body began to disappear. I smiled and walked around the Eye, still draining its power, until I stood before Ancano. "Did you know they call me _Atmoran?_ Do you know why?"

Ancano stared in fear, deathly silent. He was shivering in terror. "I am what's left of the Thalmor Assassination division. I killed the rest," I told the elf. His eyes widened in fear. "And now I kill those who can't be trusted with freedom. I am not without mercy, though. Aren and Ervine, from what I hear, died quickly. So will you – Talos have mercy on you.." Ancano's head suddenly was no longer connected with his shoulders.

_**Ogiim**_

**Durak**

The air around Durak Yarzol crackled from the dying embers of the fire. The Orcish man was surrounded by bodies, some dead. Others dead twice. "Dammit. We weren't fast enough," the old human beside him grunted. "Damn fools should have listened."

"Isran..." Durak began. "Does this mean –?"

"Yes, Durak," Isran said. The human sighed and pulled his warhammer from his back. "This means war is about to begin." The head of the hammer slammed through the skull of a wheezing Vampire, and its undead life was no more.


	29. Dawnguard:Daughter of Coldharbour

**AN: Here we are, the beginning of round two. Dawnguard. I hope you guys enjoy this fist chapter of Lucius and Thera's war. You're only going to get a taste of Serana, and I hope that you are disgusted and terrified by what happens with Thera. It's bad, in case you want to skip this chapter. It involves Molag Bal and Vampires, so there's some pretty M stuff implied, but that's just this chapter. It goes back to a more T rating after this.**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I cradled the handle of my sword at my hip as the arguments amongst the Jarl council intensified within Whiterun, a location supposedly unknown. Unlike the moot I had been present for months before, when Elisif had been installed as High Queen, this council did not hold any true Imperial presence. I was there, not as a representative of the dying Empire, but as a favor for Elisif and Balgruuf; I was a voice that all present respected, even the bored and much maligned new ruler of Riften, the matriarch of the Black-Briar family. As it was, I had almost nothing to contribute to the conversation, as every member of the High Queen's Jarl council had begun shouting loudly on their own opinions. "It had to have been the Thalmor!" one of the Jarl's Thanes hissed. "Who else would attack the Hall of the Vigilant but those monsters?"

I was tempted to believe the same. However, the Dominion had retreated within its walls in the past months, recovering from the reeling waves of coups their government had just undergone. That did not rule out their involvement in the attack and, indeed, it did not rule out the possibility that their agents had undertaken the assault of their own volition. That _she_ had undertaken the assault of her own volition. With the cruelty she so enjoyed, and the Daedra she no doubt served closely, she was my top suspect for the slaughter of the Vigilants of Stendarr.

"It was not the Thalmor," Rikke said from Elisif's side. The life of a Queen's adviser did not suit her – she was a warrior who needed conflict to thrive. True, honest battle, not the backstabbing and scheming present in any court. Rikke was wearing ceremonial armor, the kind one wears if they do not expect battle any time soon. Still, she was clever, and I knew to trust her guesses. They were, as Tullius had many times come to admire, often correct. "There were hints of... other things present amongst the wreckage. Things not mortal."

"You believe they had a run in with a Daedra worshiper? One more powerful than they expected?" Morthal's Jarl asked. The old woman, Igrod Ravencrone, frowned and glanced over at me. There was Magick in her blood, Magick that could open the future to her in a limited capacity. It was obvious she believed my destiny was not yet complete. Her attention returned to the council after only the briefest moment. "You believe that they were attacked by the armies of some Prince?"

"Such things have happened before," Rikke noted. The Breton Mage behind her nodded, her eyes glowing in the dim darkness of the council room. "Daedra and those that hunt them have a very savage war that occurs behind every other war ever waged. This is merely the latest salvo."

The doors flew open, drawing my attention. My eyes drifted to the figure in the center of the huge double doors, a mere silhouette of a warrior. "Well, you're not entirely wrong," a deep, Orsimer voice stated. The entire room's eyes were on the Orc as he sauntered up to the table, frowning. "It's Vampires."

Morthal's Jarl immediately began glaring at me. I had recently aided her against some rather... aggressive Vampires. Now, Vampires don't often become aggressive, become... political. They fight as a shadow does, dominating mortals when possible outside of anyone's field of vision. They don't try to rule in the sun. We both agreed, Jarl Ravencrone and I, that something was amiss. However, with no Vampire attacks in the next two months, we were face the possibility that no greater threat was at hand.

Until now. "Why do you believe this?" Balgruuf asked. He leaned forward in his seat, shifting his weight on the uncomfortable stone chair. "Who are you?"

"I am Durak. Warrior of the Dawnguard. Vampire Hunters," the orc explained. He placed his hands on the table, eliciting angry looks from the Jarls around him. Sybille Stenton, Elisif's Breton Wizard, glared more venomously than most. "And as for how I _know_ this? The group I have come here to represent is deeply invested, each and every one of our members, in hunting down Vampires. We watch for them. We wait for them. We want do destroy them. The threat is greater now than it has been in some time." The Orc glanced at Igrod and then at me. "As these two can attest from the events concerning Movarth in Hjaalmarch."

Elisif glanced towards me. "Is this true?" she asked calmly. I nodded slowly. The Queen sighed. "I don't know why I was not alerted. I could have helped."

"There was no need," Ravencrone explained. "The Dragonborn handled things."

"The Dragonborn. Indeed, he is the main reason I am here," Durak said, turned towards me again. He frowned."But first, Jarls, I would implore that you send men to be trained by our leader, Isran, in fighting Vampires. If you do not, many will die."

"We're just supposed to trust this third party?" Sybille asked angrily. She scoffed. "I would urge, Queen Elisif, we be careful with what this one wants. The Dawnguard existed before, and they disbanded because of their corruption."

"That's not a lie," Durak sighed. He crossed his arms and frowned. His custom armor, emblazoned with a stylized star, heaved with his shoulders. "But that was centuries ago. We are a new Dawnguard for a new Era."

The room was silent. Eyes shifted nervously. "I can spare a few for now. More soon," Ravencrone volunteered. She was the only one.

"I see that you don't take this threat seriously. I will give you a moment to reconsider," the orc said, eyes heavy and angry. He smiled at Igrod. "Thank you, Jarl." Durak looked at me, motioning for me to meet him outside, then left.

"I have something I need to check on," I whispered to Elisif and Balgruuf. "Don't expect me back." I left, my black cloak twirling around my Daedric-clad shoulders.

As I exited the door, I was stopped by Durak. "So you believe, just like Igrod, then?"

I stared at the orc for a while. "Yes. Something, I don't know what, but something is coming. I am used to threats that others tend to overlook, Durak. Dragons. Thalmor Wizards. Daedra. The Stormcloaks. I tend to end those threats."

"Yes, just as their victory seems assured," Durak noted with a deep laugh. "Victory from the dragon's maw, friend."

"So you need help?" I asked. I smiled. Fire flickered at my fingertips. "I'm free now."

Durak grinned. "That's what I like to hear. Listen, I have to shmooze these milk-drinkers for a while. Isran said if I got you, he wants you to head to this cave near where the Hall of the Vigilants stood. Vampires have been digging around, looking for something," Durak explained. "One of the last Vigilants is there. He won't last long."

"Guess I should get going," I replied with a smile.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I had been running for some time. My many enemies already were converging upon me, threatening to destroy what little I have. The Guilds I controlled were conducting various jobs to create the Empire I was so close to crafting, the victory I had nearly claimed. For all my power, I was so very weak. So secluded from my base. Which is why, while running from Imperial guards and Thalmor assassins, I ran into some moronic Nord. "You there! Will you help me?"

"Yes, let's go!" I shouted before the man could finish. He exclaimed joyfully and dragged me into an abandoned home. This was starting to feel like a stupid idea.

"I am a Vigilant of Stendarr," the man explained as he drew his mace, looking around the house. "I... was put on assignment here shortly before... Uh, anyways, we have reason to believe that this home is being haunted, perhaps by a ghost or a Scamp. I just want some backup, and you look capable."

"Yes... indeed," I replied, my blades slowly being drawn from their scabbards. "We'll get rid of this Daedra, then."

_Or...You could have power beyond your dreams, mortal_, a growling, hissing voice whispered in my ear. _Great, unending power._

My eyebrows raised. This was not some simple Scamp that the fool was dealing with. _Indeed I am no Scamp. They are beneath me, moreso than yyou could ever believe._

Ah, yes, much more than I had believed. Not more than I could have believed, however. Power is well within my imagination's reach. _Yes, your soul burns with desire for dominion over your fellows. Dragonborn, one with the blood of dominion given by my weakened fools of brothers. Great power, nonetheless, fit for dominating mortals._

_Ah, the gleam of Empire in your eye. The dreams of power. Of rule. Ambition that I have only seen in a few – the man of Kvatch, the Nerevarine, Tiber Septim, Harkon... all of whom refused me, save one. They disappointed me, unwilling as they were to try and claim power in my name_, the voice burned in my skull. _Kill the fool priest, and I will grant you unimaginable power. Things are coming, domination over the Aedra that you will bring about. Domination in any form is worship for me, and I would have you dominate all_.

I smiled. "Of course."

"What?" the Vigilant asked.

"Don't worry about it," I replied as I sliced his head off.

_**Fahiil **_– _**Zuspein**_

**Thera**

The dead priest of Boethiah, another of my... benefactors, lay dead at my feet. My fingers were curled around the handle of Molag Bal's mace. It breathed in, hungering for souls. _So you have claimed my mace through domination, Dragonborn_, Molag Bal congratulated. _Impressive work. Beautiful work_.

"Indeed. Is this what you promised, though? A chunk of metal, enchanted it may be, is just... a chunk... of metal," I told the Daedra. I placed the mace on my hip.

_My mace is only the beginning, Dragonborn. You arrival is fortuitous, Dragonborn. Dominator. This is my Feast, my day of power in your world. You may claim great power, if you but subjugate yourself once for me..._

I froze, my heart filled with fear. What Bal offered... he offered terrible things. Great, terrible things with a price of the most ancient fears and pains and brutal torture and blissful pleasure all at once. His blood in exchange for all of mine, all I offered, all I was. And then I would become a Vampire. And not only a Vampire, but a Daughter of Coldharbour. I would be... well, no one was quite sure. Daughters of Coldharbour were rare, rare enough that many believed all of them had been exterminated. But the price... Molag Bal was...

"Yes."

There are no words for the horrors that I experienced that day. The untold pain and rage of a Daedric Prince unleashed upon a single mortal to do exactly what he was meant to do, to dominate, to subjugate, is – Is – Is –

Everything I saw is burned into my eyes. And I loved it. Every second of it. Every fraction of every moment of every horror unleashed was pure, agonizing bliss. I understood, in that moment, everything I would do to all who opposed me and more. To all of Nirn.

But first, the terror.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stared at the monolith that began to rise from the... well, in all my time studying Magicka and its applications, I had no clue what I was looking at. It was, something, some type of Magickal energy that completely altered the ruled of the Plane around this stone. I did not know why, but I knew that every fiber of my being told me whatever I was about to find was the most important thing in the world to me. Some kind of tool or weapon that I could use to save an entire world, again. An Elder Scroll? A weapon to be used against Vampires? What it was, however, I was not remotely prepared for. The monolith completely erupted from the ground, and one of its six sides slid open.

A woman of about my age, mid to late twenties, wearing... a fetishy amount of leather that revealed. Um, a lot. Her arms were crossed over his midsection. She began to fall from her tomb. I gasped and rushed forward to catch her. "Whoa, are you okay, miss?" I asked. Metal clanged against my head and I looked up at the handle of an Elder Scroll. Well, it was nice to see I wasn't entirely wrong.

"Huh? What?" the woman groaned. She jolted awake, shoving off of me. I tumbled to my ass and looked up at her. "Who are you? Where am I? This isn't where I was left."

"Um, hello. I'm Lucius. Luc, if you prefer, however. I was sent here by a group called the Dawnguard. Some trouble has popped up around the province. I, er, uhm... What do you mean? How long were you locked in there? No, wait, first question – what's your name?"

The woman stared down at me. Her hand was gripping the handle of an elven dagger at her hip. "I'm Serana," she finally said, deeming me not much of a threat. "Dawnguard, huh? I always thought it'd be one of my kind that found me."

I looked into the woman's mesmerizing golden eyes. "Ah. You're -"

"Yeah."

"I see. Well, you haven't tried to kill me yet. I can return that favor," I explained I groaned and shoved myself up to my feet. "Thanks for knocking me over, though. I'm fine. How long have you been in there?"

The woman grimaced and bit her lip. Her extended canines dragged along her lips. Her full, blood red... uhm... never mind that. She pondered the question before responding. "Well, I don't know. Who's King of Skyrim?"

"Oh... well, now that the War's over, it's Elisif. She had the Empire's backing," I explained.

"The Empire? What Empire?" the woman asked, genuinely confused. Her glowing eyes pierced mine.

"Um, the Empire... from Cyrodiil," I explained.

"What? There's an Empire in Cyrodiil? That backwater nowhere?" Serana asked. She laughed.

"Yes, there is. Or was. No one's really sure if it's still there, at this point," I responded. My mood quickly fell. The Emperor... I smiled at Serana. "So, Serana, can I help you with anything?"

Serana looked suddenly stunned. "Y-you..."

"What?"

"No one ever offers to help without some kind of... You want something in return."

"Besides spending time with a beautiful woman?" I asked. The Vampire blushed and stuttered. "Don't worry. Honestly, if these nasty guys were looking for you, maybe someone else will come looking. I'm in the business of protecting the people, and whatever _these_ Vampires are doing, it threatens them."

"Oh, well thanks then," she said, a half smile on her beauti – her face, a half smile on her face. Gods, I'm sorry about that.

"Don't worry. I've been told I'm good travel company," I said, smiling at Serana. She smiled back.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I shivered as the door was opened by the power of Molag Bal. I twitched, groaning. "Are you okay?" one of Markarth's people asked. The woman put her hand on my shoulder, trying to steady me.

I smiled and twitched again. "Oh, now I am." I shrieked in pain and rage as my new, outer skin erupted in a rain of blood and flesh. "Much better." My teeth dug through the neck of the woman, and she screamed in anguish.


	30. Bloodline: Castle Volkihar

**AN: So, thank you again to everyone who has read this far. Crazy to think we're already thirty chapters in, huh?**

**To Undeadmonkey8: I by no means think you're insane for liking Thera more. She is direct, and I can respect admiring that. But, on how Lucius is "holier than thou" when it comes to his dealings with Thera, I kind of feel like he has good reason. He is literally blessed by the Divines (though, I suppose she is, too). Also, while he does have a tendency to leave a pile of bodies in his wake, he doesn't enjoy it or mistreat the people they were like Thera does, unless maybe the victim was Thera herself. I did address it, at least a little, just below. Finally, as for blaming Thera all the time, he's basically been told by everyone that they're mirror images, two sides of a single coin. On top of that, they keep popping up in each other's stories. I agree it is a bit knee jerk so far, and I might address that, but so much so far is her fault that it seemed the logical reaction for Lucius to have. Thank you for reading and caring enough to form your own opinion, too. I enjoy that not everyone is... for lack of a better term, "Team Lucius."**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Our gazes were locked, Sealed together. We did not understand _who_ the other was, not at that moment, but we understood _what_ the other was. Neither of us was apologetic for it either: we are who we are, after all. Both of us, creatures born in the fires of tarnished youth. In death, both the death we've seen... and the countless more we have inflicted. I've been accused of being blind to that, to my own wake of ruin, but I see it. I attract death; I inflict it all around me and thus cause it to be inflicted on those closest to me. That was another thing we had in common. The pain we felt wasn't just our own. "I'm guessing you don't approve, then," Serana said coolly. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her braid was undone to hide her pale face from the tavern crowd. Her eyes, once closer to a bloody red from starvation, had become a golden brown. A warm color that was made colder by what I had seen.

"No. No I don't," I replied quietly. We sat alone in the corner of the building, plates of food and drink between us. My fingers were interlocked beneath my chin, and I was wearing a long black cloak over similarly colored clothes more comfortable than my armor. My blade sat on the ground, within arm's reach. The flame enchantment burned hungrily. I glanced down at the ground from my head's perch on my fingers. "There is so much we do not understand in this world, Serana. The Magicka contained in blood is... personal and powerful. It could contain the Soul, or part of it. For you to -"

"It couldn't have been avoided," Serana responded. She leaned forward onto the table. "I am a Vampire, Luc."

"I know. I don – I don't blame you, Serana," I replied. I took my chin from my hands and put them down on the table. I clenched and unclenched my fists, then clenched my right hand again. "I'd be dead right now if it weren't for what you did. I just – "

"You killed your fair share of those bandits, too," Serana interjected pointedly. Her fingers brushed against my left hand. They were cold as marble. "That fire – not all of them died quick."

I pulled my hand away from hers and let the din of the tavern fill the silence between us. I stared into her eyes, and I was back there, all of a sudden. I was crossing blades with some bandit, the two of us, experts in swordcraft, knowing that one of us would be dead at the end of things.

I shot flames from my left hand, a short spray that caused the bandit to raise his sword arm to his eyes to defend them. I went in to slash through his chest, but his shield arm came up to block just in time. He staggered backwards; I was just as unbalanced, and tumbled forwards. I was able to regain my footing just in time to coat my fist with a spike of frost Magick and bury it wrist deep into the bandit's fur covered chest. The Magick I was channeling to keep the weapon alive spread, freezing his blood and causing his entire body to suddenly shatter.

A gurgling scream erupted behind me, followed by the clattering of metal against stone. I spun quickly and froze. The blade, an ebony weapon, was laying on the ground just behind me. It's owner was gurgling, shivering as his blood was drained from his body. Serana's body was twisted around the bandit's body, shaking as she inhaled the power from his blood. "No!" I snapped. I dropped my sword and tried to drag Serana off of him, but she had been starving for thousands upon thousands of years. The woman shrugged me off, the simple movement throwing me across the grounds of the fort and into the dirt. I groaned and struggled to my feet. Serana turned from her kill, and I saw her for the creature she was, not the sarcastic but warm woman I had somehow met in that tomb. As her eyes slowly dulled from blood red to warm gold, as the blood coated her body from her nose down to her chest, I saw the animal inside.

Vampire.

I shook off my reverie and stared up at the ceiling. "I've done terrible things. Worse than what you've seen," I told her. She flinched and looked taken aback at the cold rage in my eyes. "I've probably bathed in blood more often than you or your father even have. For a while I was really _good_ at it. Tried to convince myself that I liked it. That's what they told me I should do. 'Humans are only animals after all.'" I looked down at Serana and absorbed her fear with my dead eyed stare. She was actually a little horrified. Imagine, the monster in the dark scared of _me_, a mortal.

I smiled sadly and let emotion run through me again. "Enjoying your food. Hope you didn't ruin your appetite with that snack," I said dryly.

Serana stared at me, studying me and weighing her options. What should she say? How should she react? She made the right choice. She chuckled and shook her head. "Ugh... the steak isn't rare enough."

"Ha! Any more rare, Serana, and they would have just given you the cow," I half-joked. It was nearly bleeding on the plate.

She smiled good naturedly, then sighed. "This is going to cause problems isn't it?"

I shrugged. "I know how hard it can be to control one's self when darker impulses take over, Serana," I told her, shivering as I remembered things I had done, "and gods knows how long you were down there. You can't control getting hungry – Divines know I'd be hungry if I hadn't eaten in even just a hundred years. Just... don't go and accidentally kill an entire city."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I ran my tongue over my gums again, feeling the incredibly odd sensation of my extended fangs passing over my tongue. As they dragged over my tongue, the soft flesh ripped slightly to bring the familiar and now exciting taste of blood to my mouth. The wounds closed almost as soon as they opened, and I had satiated my thirst shortly after my transformation. Still, the flavor of iron in my mouth caused the pit in my stomach to burn yearningly. I thought about postponing my journey to the northwest to search for a quick bite in one of the towns, but thought better of it. With my luck, I would quickly come across a group of bandits to be used as dinner.

For the time being, I was... appropriating Dwemer artifacts from the humans who stole them. It's not as if the humans who used to live in Markarth were going to use them. Of course, they weren't going to be using much of anything. Ah well, what are slaves for but to strengthen their masters? The blessings of the god of Domination would serve me well, it seemed. In return for mastering Nirn, dominating her peoples, I would be given ever greater power. And in return for dominating the Aedra, I would become akin to a god. All in all, it was a good life.

"La la la la la," I hummed to myself as I tore the different pieces of a glass armor set from their owner's body. The now rigid limbs tore slightly from the exsanguinated corpse and released the foul – yet oddly intoxicating – scent of mortal death into the air. I glanced down at the body, a Redguard woman. "You look like you've lost weight. Is it a diet? Something _you_ ate? Something that _ate_ _you?_ It works too well, whatever it is. You should put on some weight."

I smiled down as I buckled my new bracer. Glass armor is of Mer design – highly durable make, incredible and rare material. Despite the name, glass armor is both surprisingly strong and surprisingly opaque. As with everything Elven: in a word, superior.

_Do not dally, Elf,_ Bal demanded, his voice hungry for domination. Honestly, my blood hungered for the same. _Time may no longer matter, but domination is sweetest when you conquer the strong._

Lucius. He remained mortal, a human at that. My Brotherhood spies claimed he had given up on his Lycanthropy and the favor of a god. What was the old saying, "We are a year to their day, an hour to their second?" Yes, it just would not do to allow him to merely die from age or sickness or from a blade of another. I had to destroy him, or my victory would ring hollow for an eternity to come. "So, northwest of Solitude then?"

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Wow. So it's only a small castle, then?"

Serana snickered and shook her head next to me. "Only. Actually, looks even bigger from down here. Most of the spires are full of rock."

"Seems like a waste of space," I said, glaring up at the spires that passed through the foggy mire all around, becoming invisible in the gray clouds. It looked like a place for a Vampire coven to live, honestly. Live, I guess that's a stretch for an undead. I glanced over at Serana, whose face was far from the joyous grin I had expected from one coming home, even a home she herself said was troubled. She looked, instead... depressed. But that was the case, why would she even want to come home? "What's wrong?"

Serana flinched and turned to me, lips pursed. "I... well, whoever is here when we go in could very well determine what kind of reception to expect."

"Oh. You mean whether I'll get eaten immediately or if I'll have fifteen minutes to run away?"

"Well, either way you'll have fifteen minutes. Dinner doesn't begin until the top of the hour," Serana responded with a grin and eliciting a groan from me. Her expression soured. "In all honesty, I don't really like either of my parents, but if it's my dad in there..."

"Ah. Well, if I had a family like that I could see where you were coming from," I told her. I grimaced. "I'm sorry. But, excuse me for asking, but why did you want to come back?"

"Where else would I go?" she asked, staring at me.

I opened my mouth to respond, then shut it and looked at the ground. Serana chuckled. "What, do you have an idea?"

"Uh, er... No. Unless you want to completely start over surrounded by humans, probably not," I replied with a sad smile. I shrugged. Serana smiled back and shook her head, taking a few steps to leave. "Wait! Before we head in there..."

"What?" Serana asked.

I sighed. "You make a good travel buddy," I told her with a sad smile. She smiled back. As the silence became awkward, I coughed and shook my head. "Guess I'll let you do the talking, huh? For some reason, a human speaking to a bunch of Vampire royalty doesn't sound like it would be received well."

"Well, at least you're not stupid," Serana joked. She grabbed my arm. "Thanks. Come on."

As we got closer, it seemed we were noticed. "Is that... Serana! Lady Serana has returned!" the voice of an old man screamed. As we approached, the massive gate slid upward and the door opened. "Please, follow me, my Lady."

"Just... be quiet, I'll get you out of here alive," Serana whispered as we entered. I nodded. "And try to take your hand off your sword. It's called 'being non-threatening.'"

With a jump I did as Serana said. I didn't want to get killed as soon as I walked in. "Who d – I..." the high elf Vampire froze, almost cowering. "Lady Serana... the Elder Scroll..." The elf fell to his knee. "Allow me to announce you my Lady."

Serana looked nearly ready to roll her eyes, but instead replied, "Fine." The elf bowed even further before standing up and walking into the main hall of the castle. As he did, the din running through the background of the air quieted.

"Yes?" a single, angry voice snapped, muffled.

"My Lord Harkon... may I present Lady Serana..." the elf replied, followed by gasps and exclamations of surprise, apprehension, and joy.

Serana grimaced at me, and began to walk into the main hall. I took a shaky breath and followed her. "Ah, my long lost daughter returns at last. I trust you have my Elder Scroll?" the angry voice asked, malice still running through every syllable, though less angry. This must have been Harkon. His hair was the same pitch as his daughter's, though his eyes were filled with an even scarier hunger. He wore luxurious robes adorned with the Sigil of Molag Bal.

Serana growled. "After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me? Yes, I have the damn Scroll."

Harkon laughed disarmingly. His charismatic nature seemed to almost calm even me. "Of course I'm delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud?" he asked as she approached. He hugged her, though not heartily enough that I could not see it was loveless. "Ah, if only your traitor mother were here as well. I would let her watch this joyous reunion before putting her head on a spike." Harkon grinned at the thought and took a deep drink of his blood filled chalice. He stopped drinking as he caught sight of me and frowned condescendingly.

Harkon looked disapprovingly over at his daughter. "Now tell me, who is this..." Harkon struggled with the words, not wanting to offend the man who had saved his daughter. The mortal. "This stranger you have brought into our hall?"

Serana's glare asked if it even needed answering. Harkon's smirk said it did. "This my savior. The one who freed me."

Harkon took a deep breath, obviously angry that his own people were unable to fetch his daughter when an unimpressive mortal was more than capable. "For my daughter's safe return," he began, cold and calculating, "you have my gratitude. Tell me, traveler, what is your name?"

"I'd rather not," I replied, drawing a demonic glare from Harkon.

"Do not spit on my hospitality, Dragonborn," Harkon sneered. "Or did you think the tales did not reach us as well?"

I glared at the man whose height was the same as mine. Given how large he was, it was likely he was either Nedic or Atmoran, dependent entirely on the nebulous date of his turning. "I am Lucius Atmoran. The _Dovahkiin_. The master of the Companions and wielder of Magnus' light."

The Vampire's sneer fell away. There was no emotion save cold, calculating rage in his eyes. He saw me, suddenly, as a peer. A threat on par with him. "So you know what we are."

"Yes, Harkon, I do. You're Vampires," I replied just as coldly.

Harkon glared at me for a moment, then laughed. I continued to glare at him. "Not just Vampires, boy," he said with an arrogant smile. Serana groaned. "We are among the oldest and most powerful Vampires in Skryim. In all of Tamriel!"

"Is that so?"

"Indeed," Harkon said. He began pacing. "For centuries we have lived here, far from the cares of the world. All of which ended when my wife _betrayed_ me and stole away that which I valued most." Harkon glanced over at Serana, though his gaze did not seem to fall on her. He asked for the Scroll before her own well being.

I looked over at Serana, who was staring sadly at the ground. "Then what happens now?" I asked with a frown. My hand was not yet on my blade, but I had a feeling it would soon need to be.

"You have done me a great service, and you must be rewarded," Harkon said with a crafty smile. It was obvious he wanted something from me in this 'reward.' "There is but one gift I can give equal in value to that of the Elder Scroll and my daughter –" Again, the Scroll first. "– I offer you my blood. Take it, and you may walk as a lion amongst sheep. Men shall tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again." He grinned down at me.

The so-called gift was a trick. He wanted me as his slave, as his tool to be used as a weapon. I looked over at Serana, who was staring at me intently. I wasn't sure, but she seemed torn between hoping I'd say yes and hoping I'd say no. I looked back at Harkon. "And if I refuse?"

His expression soured. "You will be prey." I made no response. Harkon scoffed. "Perhaps you still need convincing?! Behold the power! _This_ is the power that I offer!" he screamed. His skin reddened as the blood rushed to the surface, and something I had hoped never to see again occurred.

My fists shook as the grey skinned monster stood before me, with a face of a bat and torn, ragged wings. It was a familiar, evil sight. "So you controlled Vignar," I hissed as I fixed my eyes on the ground. The images of the Battle-Borns's skulls affixed to pikes rushed through my mind. "You are responsible for all those deaths."

"Ah, Grey-Mane. It was disappointing when you killed him, yes," Harkon replied coolly. "But it just meant he was weak. Balgruuf will be strong once I turn him, as will Elisif and all the others."

My fists quivered. "NO!" I screamed. I drew my blade and angled it at Harkon's throat. The room erupted in rage, with a dozen arrows, swords, and spells pointed directly at me. My rage filled eyes were stuck on the point of my saber, ready to kill the creature in front of me.

"And you will kill me?" Harkon asked. He laughed, breaking the tension and causing his cult of Vampires to laugh with him. They looked down on me. "How?"

I glanced over at Serana, who hadn't drawn her weapon yet. She looked at me, confused. I tried to communicate how sorry I was that I hadn't told her what I was about to tell Harkon. I turned back to the monster. "I am the Bane of Movarth, I am Dragonborn, I am Alduin-Bane... I am the Butcher of Skingrad."

Harkon nearly choked at that. "S-Skingrad?" he asked. I looked over at Serana. As soon as she understood what that meant... Finally, Harkon came to a conclusion. "Let him leave."

"But, my Lo-"

"DO NOT QUESTION ME!" he screamed. The Vampire turned back to me, fear in his bloody eyes for the first time in millennia since he has seen the nightmarish form of Molag Bal. "Go mortal, and never return, lest I destroy all you hold dear."

I glared at Harkon, then glanced back at Serana. She looked slightly worried for her father, despite how she claimed to hate him. I couldn't kill him when she was right there. My blade sang back into its sheath. "I will leave, but remember that Alduin was the oldest dragon, and it did him little good." With that, I turned on my heel and walked defiantly from Volkihar Castle.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

As I entered the castle in earnest, I used a rag of the gatekeeper's shirt to wipe his blood from my jawline. Couldn't do to greet this 'king' without looking clean. "You bring this monster, this _Lucius_ into our home!"

"What, are you afraid?"

I stopped. Lucius, eh? It would seem our fates were yet again intertwined. How interesting. "Do not be so insolent, my daughter!" the first voice snapped. There was a loud crack as the sound of palm on cheek echoed through the air. "Know your place!"

"My Lord," someone whispered – ah, Vampire-Elven hearing. "There is someone else here."

"Kill them," the Lord – likely Harkon – spat. He returned his rage to the second voice, screaming at her.

I sighed and drew one of my blades, beheading the Altmer fool who attacked. "What a waste of good breeding," I sighed as I walked down the stairs. I tossed the head from hand to hand as a young, pale woman and a middle aged giant of a Man glared at me. I smiled at the woman's disgust and the man's intrigued rage. "I am Thera, and I believe we share a common enemy."

Harkon smiled darkly. "Then come this way, and feast. Your travels must have been arduous, O, Daughter of Coldharbour."


	31. A New Order:Monsters and Masks

**AN: Tsubasa Hikaru: Finally got around to incorporating that quote. Hope you're happy with its placement!**

**To everyone: I hope that some of the developments in this chapter will be entertaining for everyone. Lucius' past is going to take a more central focus in this story arc, specifically the event that finally got him to flee his life of Thalmor slavery. Given how Harkon reacted to **_**that**_ **event last chapter, I'm guessing you know which one.**

**On Thera's side of things, she's on a quest from Molag Bal. You'll see below that it's more than just simply Conquering the Sun for Harkon, and she's going to try and consolidate as much power as possible. The Vamp radiant quests will factor into her storyline, especially turning key political figures and obtaining the ancient vampire remains.**

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"So you were chosen by Molag Bal, without any prior sacrifices to him?" Harkon asked as another human cattle was tossed onto the dining table for me. It was a Bosmer – they have the best blood, honestly. Harkon said he was more of a Redguard man, the exotic blood of another continent. But the Bosmer... it's wild but still elven.

I took a deep, moaning breath as I came up for air from the shivering cattle's throat. "Ah... yes, that's right. Sought _me_ out. I was being chased by, Divines knows how many Markarthian soldiers, when I was lucky enough to come across a Vigilant aiming to destroy the 'Daedric presence in this abandoned home.' Ah, how ironic."

"And you aided Molag Bal in killing this Vigilant of Stendarr?" Harkon asked.

"Among... other things," I replied after another lengthy draught of Bosmer blood. "And the rest, as humans say, is history."

"Indeed," Harkon replied with a grin. I smiled back. He was disgusting. Killing him as Molag Bal had requested would give me no small amount of pleasure. A human is still just a human, no matter how long he has tried to play immortal god. He was not worthy to destroy the Sun, to take the power of the gods for himself. No, that would belong to _me_.

I caught sight, once again, of the only other Vampire in the room. A dark haired woman in the corner whose golden eyes were filled with distrust. "How do you know Lucius?" I asked Harkon, but keeping my eyes on his daughter. Her face became... interesting upon the mention of my _Jokaar_'s name.

"Ah, yes. Him," Harkon said with a sneer. He turned from the table and began posturing as if preparing for lies. Amateur, even after all those millenia. "Yes, the damned fool came her with blade drawn, threatening my daughter. Said he wanted to try and kill me. I fought him off, let him leave with his life."

I laughed. Harkon turned towards me angrily. "I've met him, many times. I am Dragonborn. We are destined for eternal war, Harkon. I know his soul more intimately than perhaps any at the moment. He would never threaten your daughter in the way you describe," I said with a smile. Harkon's eyes glanced up and down, sizing me up. "Let's do away with the language and the lies. Weaker beings call us monsters, Harkon. We take what we want, let us be blunt about it at the very least."

The Vampire Lord's eyes narrowed. "Indeed... He saved my daughter from eras of sleep, kidnapped by her mother," Harkon said, his calculating eyes still studying me. "I let him live as recompense."

I smiled. He was lying. "Was that so hard?" I asked with a trusting – though not _too _trusting – expression. Couldn't have him knowing I thought he was lying. Better to be believed a fool until you strike with the fury of a dragon than to let all see your cards as they are dealt. But it was clear enough in his eyes: Lucius had terrified Harkon. Understandable, given Lucius' far above average skills and surprisingly murderous side. Only one who truly enjoyed death could be the Butcher of Skingrad.

"No, I suppose not," Harkon said with a smile. He sighed. "Now, I have a task for just you. Have you ever heard of the Bloodstone Chalice?"

_**Sosnaak**_

**Serana**

The woman did not yet know of the treacherous orbit she had just entered, a satellite in the opposing gravities of the Dragonborn. A pawn, or yet perhaps more, in a game that had yet to begin. No, she did not know what powers had her in their dueling grasps.

She did, however, know that Lucius and Thera were opposites. Either was a shadow of the other, a negative. Red and Blue. Day and Night. Man and Mer. Mortal and Vampire. Most everything in Serana's gut told her to stay put, to remain with the Vampires. Lucius was a Dawnguard, a _Vampire Hunter_, after all. He was a mortal, a man with fire in his heart rather than ice in his veins. He slept at night, lived in the day. They could not be allies, much less friends. Thera was cruel, with a taste for blood and strength. She could bring about eternal night, just as Harkon, and indeed most Vampires, wanted. A true Vampire at heart. _Just like me_, Serana hissed to herself in an attempt to quiet the murmurs in her mind.

But that was not all. Luc – _Lucius_, she reminded herself, trying to convince herself even still – was not just a Vampire Hunter with his face in the sun and his mind on the day. He was a good man. That should have terrified Serana more, perhaps. Good men hunt monsters. Die in war with them. And yet, her heart and mind and soul kept telling her to ignore her gut. Run. Leave Castle Volkihar behind, run from her father, run from the darkness, run from Molag Bal. Run from Thera.

With a shaky breath, Serana pulled up her hood and disappeared into the daylight.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"And who the hell is this?" the angry, short man growled. He was glaring at Durak with eyes that were filled with... well, I want to say gruff respect. "I thought I said no strangers."

"Ha! Isran, this is the Dragonborn," Durak replied. He grabbed my shoulder and shook me a little. "You asked me to get him."

"The Dragonborn's an Elf, Durak," Isran snapped. He rubbed his shaved head and sighed in exasperation. "She's the one we need."

I laughed in disbelief. "You wanted _her_?" I asked incredulously. I shook my head and sighed. "She's a monster."

"And you're a weakling. Honor is of no use to me," Isran growled. He stepped towards me. Despite how much taller than the man I was, he still made me feel small and weak. "And you are honorable."

"Thank you?" I replied. Isran growled to himself and turned to the fire. "Look, I want to help people. If you don't want me here, I'll leave. But I'm still going to fight."

"Do what you will," Isran replied coldly.

"But-!"

"Durak, be quiet," Isran snapped, quieting the Orc.

"You didn't let me finish, Isran," I said quietly, drawing the man's calculating gaze. "But if I leave, you won't hear what I've learned. Intelligence on the Vampire attacks, including the man who turned Vignar Greymane during the Civil War."

Isran glared at me for a while. "What are you waiting for Durak? Get the man a crossbow and meet us back here. We have some things to talk about."

Durak smiled at me. "I've never seen him change his mind before," the Orc remarked.

"Durak! Are you going to go do it!?" Isran barked, drawing a salute from the Orc, who bounded off to get me a weapon. Isran turned his gaze to me and gestured at the table in the great hall. We sat down together at one corner.

When Isran spoke, he was weary. Almost broken. "What did you learn?" he asked. I finally noticed how tired the man looked, as if he had not slept in days – perhaps longer. His head was not shaved, rather the hair had fallen out. Every breath caused his body to shudder.

"I -" I began. He looked up at me, the same fire in his eyes. "I know who was behind the attack on the Vigilants, and they are planning something huge."

"Get it out, boy," Isran whispered, the loudest he could manage at that moment. Why would he show me his true face, that of a tired old man?

"There is a... substantial coven of Vampires off the north coast, past Solitude," I explained. I pulled out Dawnbreaker. "Near Meridia's Beacon."

Isran's gaze stayed on the blade. "Good thinking getting your hands on that weapon, boy. Good for killing Vampires."

"That was the idea," I replied.

We were quiet for a short while. "What are they planning?" Isran finally asked.

I cast my gaze to the ground and sighed. "I'm not sure. But they have an Elder Scroll."

Isran gasped in fear. I looked up and Isran's powerful facade was up again, though perhaps no longer a facade. "Dammit. How did they get it?" he asked with a gravelly growl.

I laughed nervously. "Well, there was a girl..."

Isran stared at me, a terrifying, dark rage flowing from his eyes. "You see, _this_ is why I wanted the other one," he hissed, poison in his voice. I swear, still, that his hand drifted towards the hammer on his back. "_You_ get distracted by a pretty face."

"Well she just wanted to go home!" I responded, thinking that would help.

Isran was almost on fire with rage at that point. "She's a Vampire? The other one would have just killed her," Isran snarled. I whimpered in fear. "Thera wouldn't fail so blatantly."

"Except that woman is already a Vampire," a semi-familiar voice said. Isran and I both turned in surprise to the hooded, golden-eyed woman with an elven dagger trained on the Dawnguard's leader.

"Serana?!" I shouted.

"Vampire!" Isran screamed. He rushed towards Serana. Metal clattered against stone in the distance and I heard the pounding of a veritable army of boots rushing towards the entrance of Fort Dawnguard.

"No!" I snapped. I grabbed Dawnbreaker and ran towards Isran, shoving the man away from the Vampire woman. I smiled back at her. "So you've met my friends."

"Do they always attack women visiting you?" Serana asked dryly.

I laughed once. "Well, most don't have golden eyes and a taste for blood. Usually it's just the second one," I responded jokingly. I put myself between Serana and Isran, with the wall behind her. Dawnbreaker hissed in my hand, begging to kill Serana and not the mortal it was pointed at. Soon, Isran was joined by the entirety of the Dawnguard.

"What the hell are you doing?" Isran asked as he forced himself to stand. He glared at me with a look that could melt Dragonbone armor. "She's a Vampire. We _kill_ Vampires, that's the oath here."

"Yeah, I think the name 'Dawnguard' was enough of a tip off for her," I replied. Dawnbreaker was still in my hand, its will bent to mine. "So she wouldn't come here unless it was important."

"Oh, she'll tell us," Isran growled. I thought of the torture room above.

"No. Not like that," I said. I took a step forward, a terrible threat in the movement. The Dawnguard, save their leader, flinched and took a step back. "She came here of her own free will. Alone. What Vampire who meant us harm would be crazy enough to do that?"

Isran glared at her. Beside him, one of the warriors began to raise a crossbow. A bolt of fire later, the wood and metal was melting on the stone. "Do not test me, Isran," I said. I narrowed my eyes. "You may think I have honor, but I killed the Count of Skingrad. Was that an honorable kill?"

Isran stared at me, the only one to not step back in fear at the very mention of the atrocity. Finally: "Lower your weapons. Durak, send out some agents of the Dawnguard to find old associates of mine – you know the ones. The rest of you, leave us."

The warriors, with barely a moment's hesitation, ran off to do as their leader had commanded. Isran glared at me, and I at him. "Put your weapon away, boy," Isran commanded as he slid his warhammer onto his back. "You'll hurt someone."

I stared at Isran, then did as he said. I crossed my arms in front of me and didn't move. "I can't talk to her if she's behind you," Isran growled as he noticed how firmly I was planted.

I looked over at Serana. "I can handle myself," she told me. As she walked by, she continued. "Thanks, though."

"What did you come here to tell us?" Isran asked her. His hand began to drift to his weapon, but he forced it down as soon as he noticed.

"Thera, your 'Superior Dragonborn?' She is a Vampire," Serana explained coldly. She was glaring at Isran with no small measure of disgust and distrust. Vampire Princess meets the haughty defender of mortals. This was not going to turn out well.

"You have no proof of that statement, girl," Isran said. His eyes were fixed on anything and everything but Serana.

"Actually, I do," Serana retorted. Isran's gaze drifted to hers. "She is a Daughter of Coldharbour, like me."

Isran's eyes widened and he moved to grab his weapon. When the ground beneath his feet was suddenly scorched by flames, he froze. "Enlighten me on why you're more angry than usual," I told the old man.

"A pure Vampire. There's other terminology you've probably heard. Lamae Bal, the first Vampire. She was... forcibly taken by Bal eons ago. In return, he gave her his blood. Domination. She became his child. A being of pure domination. A Daughter of Coldharbour, his very essence incarnate," Isran explained with cold eyes. "A pure Vampire, whose nature is not diluted by centuries of souls leaking into the blood."

"Lamae... Lamae Beolfag?" I asked.

"Yes," Isran explained. "The First, hopefully by now, dead, Vampire. Just like this monster over here."

Serana snarled and her eyes flashed red. I grabbed her shoulder. My Daedric armor glowed brighter as it touched her skin, reacting with the Daedric essence in her veins. "Lamae Beolfag... the last recording of her existence was in the second era, but only as a Vampire. She was the first?"

"A monster. The sun does little to them. Most weapons do little lasting damage. They're true immortals," Isran explained, struggling not to grab his weapon. He sighed and grabbed his wrist to hold it at his side.

"And now she is one of them," I said.

"She has no proof," Isran said again.

"I doubt that," I said. "I implore you, just listen."

Isran stared at me, confused. Then, it was as if he saw what he was looking for. He nodded. "Continue, girl."

"The she-elf, Thera. She was turned in Markarth almost a week ago," Serana explained.

Isran glanced down and back up so quickly I barely caught it. "You know something," Serana stated.

Isran growled. "My agents in Markarth have gone silent. I don't know what happened, but I am worried."

I stepped forward. "Send Serana and me," I said. Isran and Serana turned to me in surprise. "If she is telling the truth, as I believe, there will be physical ramifications of Molag Bal entering our world physically. When we get back, she can tell us the rest of her story."

Isran shook his head. "I don't trust her."

"Do you trust me?" I asked.

He frowned. "Skingrad, eh?" he asked. I nodded. "What was in the attic of the Count's castle."

I frowned. I leaned forward and whispered the answer to Isran. Serana looked at me with cool eyes. "Fine," Isran said. He turned away. "But watch out. To her, you're just another snack." And he was gone, off to work on the fort itself.

I turned to Serana. "Why did you come here?"

She scoffed and glared at me indignantly. "I told you!" she hissed.

I shook my head and smirked. "You told me part of it. You don't trust Thera – no one half-sane does. But no half-sane Vampire would walk into a castle full of Vampire Hunters without a very good reason. You, Serana, are definitely more than half-sane," I responded.

"Tell me something first," she said. I looked up at her. This was unexpected, but I immediately knew what she'd ask me about. "Then we can get going."

I stared at her without blinking. There was this... energy in the air between us. "The Skingrad incident occurred in the south and west of Cyrodiil in the one-time capital of the area, a city called Skingrad," I began. "I don't like to talk about it, but I'll tell you if you really want to know."

Serana looked taken aback. "Why?"

"Because you asked?" I suggested. I shrugged. "If we're going to be working together we need to trust each other. Might as well be the first to open up. Fair warning, though, my friends have a pretty bad knack for getting killed because of me."

"Then I guess we won't be friends," Serana said with a sigh. "Allies?"

I nodded. "Sure. Do you really want to know?"

"You can leave out what you want," she told me. "Just tell me what I need to know." She crossed her arms and pulled down her hood. Her hair brushed against her shoulder. I sat down on a nearby box and motioned for her to sit next to me.

As Serana sat down our fingers brushed together. She moved her hand away, flinching. She was a monster trying to be a good person... like me. "I'll tell you... most of it," I whispered hoarsely. I struggled to find my words, to tell her what I did without explaining to her _what I did_. "I was... after my parents died... I was in Skingrad during this event a little over seven years ago. The Thalmor – the Elves of the Aldmeri Dominion – began exterminating everyone there. They were looking for anything to discredit the Empire in those years, anything to attract more power to its base, when they learned that the count of Skingrad and the West Weald was a Vampire."

"And you... were an agent of these Thalmor? From what I understand, they look down on humans. Why would you aid them?" she asked.

"I was... Serana, I wasn't free back then," I whispered. I didn't tell most people about that, so why was I telling her?

"You mean you were a slave," she said simply. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. The pity usually present was not there. It was a welcome change, to not suddenly be seen as the man I was. It was going to be painful to watch that lack of pity become disgust.

"Yes. A trained attack dog," I said. I began anxiously moving my hands across my armored thighs. "I – I was sent in with one other, another like me, to exterminate the city. So we did. I did. Then -"

"You sound sorry for it," Serana pointed out. She clicked her tongue. "Okay. You killed a Vampire, lots of people have. I have."

I shook my head. "But I did worse things. I..."

"Don't," Serana said. She put her hand on my chin and pushed my gaze up to hers. "I've killed a lot of people, too, Luc. You don't need to think I'll run away from you because of it."

I looked at the ground, feeling hollow. "Is that why you try to act all pure?" she asked. I glanced up in surprise. "So you don't have to remember?" Her tone, despite her words, wasn't cruel. Her eyes were full of a kindness I did not expect from a Vampire's gaze. Compassion. Something else.

I smiled. "Yeah, probably," I said. I shoved the images of the blood-soaked indignities I had inflicted, and the woman they brought to mind. My soul shivered in remembrance of the cruelties we had unleashed together. _Together_. Repressed memories of a woman that I had turned into a monster. I stood up and looked at Serana and the drowning humanity in her eyes. Maybe my penance would be to make a monster human again, and in doing so regain some of my own humanity. Not just the mask I put on even still around real people. "We'll leave in the morning. It's too late right now."

"Why leave in the morning? It's the middle of the night, perfect time," Serana said. Oh, Vampires and their completely destroyed internal clocks.

I laughed at her confusion. "Right, you're a Vampire. When did you run away?" I asked. Her face said it all. "The day, right. We can get further before encountering the lackeys your father sent to retrieve you if we leave at first light. I know you've slept a lot lately, but what's one more night?"

_**Jul**_

**Tanyin**

The figure's cloak billowed out in the wild wind, a tattered, black thing that glowed faintly with enchantments laced into the fabric itself by a master of the craft years earlier. She closed her eyes and remembered him, his smell on the blood soaked battlefield so long ago. A true artist of death.

He had unlocked her true potential that night. The Man had freed her from the shackles of believing she, and all other humans, were people. No, she was a weapon, and a weapon was meant to be bathed in blood. The blood of human dogs was the fire in which she had become tempered.

And this was her next step in finding the one who had forged her. Magickal electricity jumped between her fingers as she thought of him. The Redguard stared with a grim smile from the cliff and down at the castle in the distant waters. She had tracked him here, the latest point she knew he had departed from. Since the scouts she was employing had been killed suddenly, these Vampires were the only ones that knew where he was. They would tell her, by the power of her masters, the Aldmeri Council, they would tell her.

The Redguard woman pulled down the hood of her cloak. Faded scars crisscrossed up and down the sides of her neck, with the melted flesh of a burn peeking out from the top of her mage's robes. The identity of her target, her reason for being in that gods-forsaken frozen tundra of _men_, came from her lips. The name of her creator, the one she would return to his masters. The name he had chosen when he had defied his purpose, the one his animal parents had given him before his purpose had been revealed to him. The man she would kill to bring the true creature back to the fore: "Lucius. I'm coming for you, luv."


	32. Bloodstone Chalice:Domination's Worship

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Vampires masquerading as skooma dealers. The idea was entertainingly new to me, merely tricking the moronic mortals into knocking themselves out surrounded by Vampires in desperate need of a food source. Bal's blood-spring was a source of great power, granting greater strength to the Vampires who drank deep from its depths and infecting any human foolish enough to drink directly from its red waters. But it was not blood; it did not feed.

As I strangled the life out of the receptionist for the Skooma den, I couldn't help but smile. I had secretly devoured all of her... "customers" before turning my fangs upon the Dunmer herself. The Skooma in the customers had given their blood a very nice kick going down. It burned pleasantly in the throat. "Wh-what are you?" the Dunmer receptionist begged even while my grip on her throat tightened.

"Oh, a little bit of Vampire, a little bit of Daedra. Far above standard fare, you know," I explained. I grinned widely, my extended fangs dragging across my tongue as I licked my lips.

"A Vampire? Then why not... help us?" the Dunmer asked. She was quaking as she struggled to hold onto consciousness.

I shook my head and snickered. "And pledge myself to a weakling who relies on Skooma to dominate mortals?" I chortled derisively. "A Daughter of Colharbour would never stoop so low." And with that, I grabbed the woman by her hair and tore her head from her shoulders. Blood erupted into the air. I put my open jaw above the wound that continued to spurt out the crimson liquid and hungrily drank it all down. I sighed contentedly as the blood stopped flowing and I had my fill. "Delicious."

After the rush from devouring the woman's blood ended, I sighed in annoyance and drew my blades. It was time for me to make my way through the Skooma den and kill everything. Honestly, given how weak any I fought seemed when compared to me, it was a chore. A task meant for one lower than me.

As it was, I quickly tore my way through the mine and ruins. Any that I came upon fell to my blades and fangs amidst the sounds of their own screams. The lowly, diseased rats that had taken over the Blood Spring shrieked in pain as they were torn to shreds by my skill. It turned out that Vampire blood, while not nutritious, had its own delicious kick as well. I would have to make a point of seeking out the lowly dregs of my kind and mixing their blood into that taken from other cattle. A "4E 202 Volkiharis," if you will.

I effortlessly deflected the incoming blow from the head Vampire of the little coven I had stumbled upon. He stumbled backwards, grimacing. I yawned while I approached him. "Why would a Vampire attack us!?" the fool begged as he tried to attack me again. I flicked my wrist up and his sword glanced off of my weapon. "What are you!?"

I smiled and shook my head. I closed my eyes and blocked the weakling's clumsy attack. "I am so much more, fool," I told him. I opened my eyes and decided to show him. "Watch..." My skin bled from every pore, causing the Vampire to stumble backwards in fear. When the outer flesh of my body exploded outward, melting into droplets of blood in the air, he screamed in primal fear.

I glided above the ground towards him. His sword clattered against the ground as he turned heel and attempted to flee. Fool. In a flash of black, I was before the weakling; I had glided around him as a swarm of bats. He ran right into my open claw. I opened my maw to gloat, but only the squeak of a bat came out. More threatening, of course, than a mere squeak. Really.

I coughed and shook my grey head. "There," I growled, my voice like the sound of murder. The Vampire – if it were even right to call him that – squirmed in fear within my grip. "Much better."

The Vampire's eyes widened and he struggled against my claw, which only caused the talons on my fingers to claw through his skin. "Don't struggle," I told the weakling, but he wouldn't listen. "It will all be over soon." Red energy began to grow around my hand, and the Vampire in my claw could only stare in horror as the red light began to drench his face. A moment later, the energy exploded around his skull and whatever life had remained in his bones was gone. I tossed the husk aside and turned to the final door. I concentrated my will, and golden energy tore the doors from their hinges to reveal the Blood Spring.

I drifted through the air towards the red water and allowed my body to fall to the ground. The red waters seemed to rise up to me before I even touched it, begging to be one with me. I forcefully pulled my second skin back together, a process involving no small amount of pain. As it finished, I grabbed the cruel looking Bloodstone Chalice from my pack and lowered it to the waters. As it filled, a Magickal barrier suddenly appeared upon it. I tipped the chalice over. Whatever water flowed from it was instantly replaced, an infinite supply of cursed power.

"Interesting," a Nord's voice came. I glanced upward in distaste. Harkon's liuetenant – the one I didn't kill – walked in. What was his name? Something with an r and h and f in series. The one I killed was... Vingalmo? Yes, that sound about right. "I knew when you killed Vingalmo that you would make a powerful ally."

I smiled and placed the Chalice on the ground. "What is it you want, Nord?" I asked.

He snarled for a moment, then coughed his throat. "You may not know me. I am Orthjolf." I chuckled to myself. Four consonants in a row, I had been close. "I am Lord Harkon's lieutenant. I wanted to thank you for killing my rival."

"Yes, well he was weak," I explained. I smiled disgustedly. "All it took was a single swipe of my blade to kill him."

"Indeed. You are strong," Orthjolf responded. He held his arm out. "Which is why I believe we would make excellent allies. Harkon will not rule forever.

I laughed to myself. Who did this human think he was? "I will pass, human," I stated. I picked up the Chalice in my left hand and walked forward. I began to lie. "I won't tell Harkon if you don't do anything stupid. Well, anything else stupid."

"Well, I can't have that risk, can I?" Orthjolf asked as I neared him. More Vampires jumped out from the secondary entrance into the Blood Spring. An ambush? More than I expected from the weak mind of a Nord. Though, perhaps an immortal Nord had studied more than his foolish brethren.

I sighed. "You did not bring enough allies," I explained after counting my enemies. Ten, with Orthjolf as well. Eleven, then. My blade flashed out from its sheathe before any of the Vampires could react. Five fell before they could even draw their weapons. Another three before they could track me with their eyes. The last two ended up accidentally killing each other in an attempt to do so to me. I stopped and raised my blade to Orthjolf's throat. The Nord's teeth were chattering in fear. "Well, I was hoping you would have posed a challenge for me to dominate before I killed Harkon. But it would seem I was wrong."

"If you wish to kill him, I can help you..." Orthjolf said, trying to reason his way out of death.

"You truly believe that?" I asked. I laughed cruelly. "You are nothing. A worm. Less than dirt. Harkon would kill you in a moment. Having your aid would be worth less than having no aid at all." I stabbed forward. My blade buried itself in Orthjolf's throat. "And now, you're dead as well. Pity." I pulled my weapon from his throat and sheathed it. I took a sip from the Bloodstone Chalice. "Hm... delicious." Then I stepped over Orthjolf's gurgling, dying body and into the night.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Markarth was eerily quiet as Serana and I entered. The only noise was the wind that whistled between the buildings, only adding to the ambient terror resulting from the worrisome lack of any other noise. There seemed to be a foul smoke running through the air, a shadow that hovered between this Plane and another. Serana seemed most shaken by the foul Magick in the atmosphere, as if it was disturbingly familiar to her. Despite the fact that it was bad Serana had been incapable of stealing the Elder Scroll when she ran away, he was suddenly incredibly glad that it was not present in the city with them.

It was obvious that the power of a Daedra flowed freely from its realm and into Markarth, and corruptions of reality were made abundantly clear. The moons in the sky were shattered, when just outside the city we had seen them shining and whole. The stars were blacked out, devoid of light. That I could still use Magicka told me that, despite this, we were still present in a world with stars and the sun.

"This isn't right," Serana whispered worriedly. She looked around. "Even one daughter of Coldharbour... the hunger at birth is beyond ravenous. The streets should be lined with corpses."

"Maybe they all escaped?" I suggested. That just earned a dry glance from the woman at my side. "Yes, I know, 'wishful thinking.'"

"Someone must have moved the bodies," Serana whispered. She knelt down and traced her finger along the ground. I cringed when she placed it into her mouth. "Yeah, definitely dried blood."

"Um, ew," I began, "on every front. Also, was it a Daedra?"

"Was it Molag Bal, you mean?" Serana sked as she stood up. She turned to me and shook her head. "He wouldn't come back to an empty city for seconds. He notices us, but... as long as we don't have to fight anyone he won't care. The bloodshed and domination of battle would, unfortunately, draw him in."

"So that is how we will bring our Prince to us!" a voice cried out.

I grimaced and turned around. "Well, Serana, I hope us killing these Forsworn won't attract him, because it's that or die," I said while I glared up at the contingent of wild, Daedra worshiping half-Bretons. They were wild, each of them, with insane rage behind every pair of eyes.

History went that Markarth used to be populated by Breton-Nord half-breeds. Up until the end of the 3E, the city was ruled peacefully by the Nord Jarls who had ruled over it since ancient eras, but tensions rose more and more through the first half of the 4E. Nords and Half-breeds began to fight because of how the city reacted during the Oblivion Crisis. The Half-Breeds had always been Daedra worshipers, a tacitly accepted open secret in the Reach, and they took great offense towards their gods being assaulted by the Nord soldiers. Once the Great War broke out, the group that would come to be known as the Forsworn made their move, only to be defeated by Ulfric shortly after. The even that ignited the civil war. And now they were lords of an empty city...

"Please, fight us so our Prince may see our domination of the strong," the lead Forsworn begged. A Briarheart gleamed from a gaping hole in his chest, making his continuing life as much a result of Daedric influence as the woman who stood by me. I glared up at the veritable army before us. "We would spare you no mercy in either case."

I let my gaze fall slightly as I pulled up my Mage's hood. "If you want to die," I stated threateningly, "you are as allowed to fall by my blade as any. Enough mortal blood has been spilled here that I will allow you this one chance to turn away from assured destruction" Light danced across my eyes as I looked back up at the army. "By Talos, I hope you take it, because fighting Molag Bal is not an appealing prospect."

The Forsworn Briarheart stood silent for a moment. The crowds of half-mad Men behind him stood quiet and waiting for the command of their warpriest. The Briarheart glared down at me and laughed dryly. "Kill them."

I sighed and shook my head. "Wrong move," I whispered. I drew my sword as arrows began to rain down on us, and Dawnbreaker glimmered hungily. Serana tensed up. "Don't run. Wait."

I sensed that she froze in place. She trusted me. I smiled and glared up at the wall of metal and wood raining down upon us. "_Fus Ro Dah_!" I screamed. The green energy erupted from my lungs, a wall of force that caused arrows to shatter or reverse their course to rain down like death upon their original masters. Members of the Forsworn contingent screamed in pain as the arrows pierced their flesh and rent their souls from their bodies.

"By Bal..." Serana cursed behind me. The _Thu'um_, the first time one sees it, is a humbling power. Primordial Magick can more easily and more widely alter Nirn than the scalpel of a mage's spell.

I walked towards the opposing force, now nearly halved in a single move. "Then let us wage battle," I stated simply. Then I rushed forward, my blade already buried hilt deep in the chest of a Forsworn warrior. I shouted, "Serana, it's time to fight!"

I heard a whisper of cloth before the battle truly began, and Serana's dagger was sticking out from the eye of another Forsworn, accompanied quickly by a spike of Frost.

I turned my attention from Serana's battles and back to my own. I quickly spun away from the Forsworn I had just killed, pulling my blade from her chest as I twirled into the decapitation of another enemy. It wasn't long until I was crossing blades with the Briarheart himself. "You cannot stand against the will of of a god!" the Briarheart snapped. His headdress, the emptied skull of a deer, visibly removed whatever little humanity he had left. "You cannot stand against us!"

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing," I responded, the twinkle of the Aedra in my eyes. I smiled and laughed threateningly. "You should back off before the claws of this dragon tear you to shreds."

The Briarheart merely snarled in response before pulling away and slashing at my head again. I blocked the wolf-tooth sword as it came close to my skull, shattering a segment of the weapon's jagged blade against the flat of Meridia's saber. The semi-undead creature hissed in pain as the enchantment of Dawnbreaker strained to return the heartless – literally – creature to its natural state. Fires danced across his body and he jumped back to escape the fires I had cast upon him.

"Where are your Hagravens? I was hoping for an actual challenge," I spat as he retreated. I shot a fireball at him, but he jumped to the side. The orb of flames sailed past him, exploding in the midst of his comerades and sending their souls screaming to whatever Daedric Prince to whom they had sworn fealty. "And you going to keep sidestepping spells? It seems to be helping my friend over there more than its helping yours." The Briarheart screamed and jumped towards me. I brought up Dawnbreaker to deflect his sword, and the weapon flew away through the air. It was then I realized what a stupid mistake I had made, for the man's body collided with my own.

His fingers were wrapped around my throat before we even hit the ground, the heavy weight of my Daedric armor crashing down atop me. I couldn't summon the concentration to summon a spell to my hand and save myself, so I could only struggle against his iron grip on my throat with my own clawed gauntlets. The crazed "Madman of the Reach" ignored the metal digging gashes into his flesh and stared down from behind the eyes of a deer. I gripped at his fingers, trying to tear them open. He didn't even notice when one of them was sliced clean off by the talon-like fingers of my armor. "_Die!_" he hissed. I vainly slapped again at his wrist as the blackness began to encroach on my vision.

Then, suddenly, the pressure on my throat disappeared. I groaned as the wight of the Briarheart collapsed against my chest, nearly blacking out completely. Somehow, though, I was able to hold on to consciousness and see the spike of ice that had flown through his skull. Serana. I smiled and shoved the Briarheart off of my chest. "Thanks," I said, just loud enough to be heard over the screams of the fleeing Forsworn.

"Oh, you're welcome, luv."

My blood froze and I looked up at the source of the voice, a woman standing atop a bridge between two of the buildings above. She was holding Serana, unconscious, by her hair. An ornate, enchanted Daedric dagger was pressed against the Vampire's throat, ready to engulf her in flames at the slightest twitch. "I was hoping you were dead," I told her captor.

The Redguard laughed, a pleasing, if hollow, peal that echoed through the dead city. She looked down at me with wild eyes that conveyed no soul was within. Eyes I had once looked out from. She was an incredibly attractive woman, which was why I had chosen her so long ago. Redguard makes for a more exotic air, something incredibly useful for assassinations where you need to infiltrate a castle. She wore unassuming robes of deep black that were, undoubtedly, charged with enchantments nearly as strong as the ones on my armor. From her shoulders dangled a tattered cloak, glowing with an enchantment I had placed on it. The only time that enchantment had ever been placed, in fact. And it only worked once, for each wielder. "You still wear my mother's cloak, so it isn't what saved you from the fire," I said simply. I crouched and retrieved Dawnbreaker from the ground, my eyes never leaving her. "Let her go."

The Reguard raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. "This creature here?" she asked. The dagger pressed harder against the Vampire's throat, and she woke up. Serana struggled uselessly against the woman and her skin erupted in flames. Serana screamed in pain as the enchantment continued to bathe her skin in pain until the knife was pulled away. A thin line of red began to grow and leak blood down her pale throat. "Now, now, the Ayleid I knew would never have asked that. Oblivion, he wouldn't have even _asked._"

"My name is Lucius," I told the Redguard, cold fury in my voice. "Let her go."

"Ah, the name you were given before you realized what you are. You took it again when you forgot your place?" the Redguard spat. She lowered the blade to Serana's throat again and the Vampire's eyes widened in fear. "_Lucius_, you know why I am here?"

"To reclaim Ayleid for the Council," I replied calmly. I wanted so badly to kill the Redguard in front of me, without remorse. It pains me to say it, but she awakened in me a person I thought I had put to sleep long ago. I wanted to burn her to ash, as I had failed to do so long ago. I _wanted_ to cause her pain. "You won't, Tanyin."

She snarled. "Tanyin was a mask. I am Dwemer."

_**Jul **_– _**7 Eruvos Vod**_

**Ayleid**

Nightmares had begun to plague me. For the first time in almost half a decade, I had dreams. If you have dreams, you have them commonly. Dreams when rarely seen have meaning; these Dreams are more than mere dreams. They are visions, words of the Aedra to be placed upon those with, as the Nords called it, Doom. According to Magickal theory, at least.

I was weak, struggling to even survive the training I was being put through daily by the Lords. Sleepless nights and days began to compound, destroying my usefulness to the Lords. If I did not regain my mettle soon, the Lords would put me down like the cur that I was. And yet, I still couldn't do it. I could not kill, I could not maim, I could not do as the Lords asked of me.

So as I laid down after a night in the Breeding Rooms, as commanded by the Lords, I was... sad. "Tanyin," I whispered. I had been in the Breeding Rooms with her; we were the strongest stock for the next generation of servants for the Lords. She had been so... so bright before then, as I once had been. Human life held meaning for her, a weakness and lie perpetuated by the human curs who had birthed us. But that was what had caught my eye, that purity, that... humanity. Beyond the obvious tactical reasons for partnering with her, of course. Exotic, clever, strong, Magickal – all were useful tools of an assassin. I hissed to myself "No, not Tanyin. Dwemer." Human names are false – humans cannot have names. Names are for superior beings, such as the elves. We are merely their servants, named for exterminated elves, those less than even humans.

When sleep finally came, I was not greeted by the scenes I had created in the weeks before. I was not greeted by fire and blood and death and Vampire and murder. I was greeted by light. The souls I had caused such suffering stared at me, calm. Sad, but... happy. Behind them stood the shapes of order that characterized Magicka, the purest form. Aetherius. Then it hit me – humans. Humans were in Aetherius.

I gasped in pain, trying to wake up. The Mer had lied to me. They had gotten me to give up on my humanity, on mercy. They had – _I_ had enjoyed murder, or tried to trick myself into it. I had been a monster. I still didn't awaken.

I don't remember, clearly, what finally woke me up. I doubt that I ever will. What I do remember is that, when I did wake up, I was certain Talos existed. A Man who had become... more. Assured that the choice I had been struggling to make was right, I finally grabbed a blade and I ran.


	33. A New Order:Rebirth

_**Jul **_– _**7 Eruvos Vod**_

**Ayleid**

"He's this way!" one of the handlers screamed, rushing towards me. He was a former Dark Brotherhood assassin. When they neared me, I was blade up with fire in my hand. The damn bastard smiled arrogantly, then said the one thing all the guards so far had been too stupid to say – "Now bow, slave. _Ayrenn._"

I shuddered as the urge to bow ran through my body. Every part of me ached, _begged_ to hand my life over to the monsters in front of me. As the urge threatened to overcome me, a sense of courage broke through the haze of fears and memories of torture I associated with the name. "By Talos, _never!_" I screamed. The fire erupted from my open palm towards the wide eyed Thalmor warriors. The Assassin barely raised a ward in time to defend against the fire, much less the concussive blast accompanying the fireball that sent the contingent flying down the hall. "_**NEVER!**_"

I ran down the hallway, my simple elven blade flying through the bodies and throats of the Thalmor soldiers that rushed towards me, one by one, in the hall barely large enough to hold three soldiers shoulder to shoulder, much less three slashing swords. I had the advantage here. Every attack that came at me was clumsy; obviously the Thalmor masters were lying when they said that Mer held more natural skill than any trained human could hope to achieve.

I roared in rage and fire erupted from my left hand, turning the last of the soldiers to ash. "It seems I trained you too well," the Assassin snarled as I neared him. He unbuckled his cloak from his back and lightning was suddenly crackling in his hands. The Magicka arced towards me through the air.

"I surpassed you a long time ago," I responded in cold rage. My ward rose in fractions of a second, dispersing the Magicka of the Elf's assault. As he understood what was coming, his Magick became erratic.

"You cannot defeat a Mer of superior blood, Ayleid!" the Assassin screamed as I walked slowly, threateningly towards him. "I... Ayrenn! _**AYRENN!**_"

I stumbled at the word programmed into my mind to break me, my ward dropping for a moment, which was all the Elf needed. I roared in pain as a bolt of frost hit my leg, a short spear tearing a slice of flesh from my thigh. I clumsily launched another fireball as I went down, and it collided with the Assassin's damnable face as its expression changed from smug triumph to horror filled loss. His body was dust before I even fell to my knee.

I panted heavily for a moment, staying there. After a moment, I realized I would be caught if I remained still any longer. With a hiss, I channeled Magicka through my wound, the yellow light stitching my leg back together until there was not even a scar. I was alerted to the approach of another by the sound of boots clacking against the stone floor. I smiled to myself – I knew that gait.

"Tanyin," I breathed in relief. I turned to greet the Redguard.

_**Jul **_– _**Nu**_

**Lucius**

"Dwemer, then," I replied, my eyes stuck on Serana. I would not let Tanyin – Dwemer – whoever the Oblivion she had bec – whoever the Oblivion I made her become, hurt Serana. I glanced up at the Redguard slave. "You're here for Ayleid. He is... dead. You can go home, if you leave now. Otherwise, you won't go home at all."

Dwemer laughed and leaned forward. Her empty eyes finally had a soul glaring out – one full of evil triumph. "Oh, that threat... I definitely recognize _that_ voice," the woman cackled. She looked up at the sky and laughed like a hag for a while longer before sighing and keeping her gaze on the destroyed moons. "Say my name, the way you used to. Maybe I'll let her go."

I shivered with rage. "Dwemer," I growled. She looked down and smiled, then pushed Serana off the bridge. I rushed forward to catch the tumbling Vampire before she could crash into the stone ground. She landed softly in my arms.

"Very good," Dwemer said, her voice a mocking sing-song. I glared up at her, not knowing what I would do if I got my hands on her.

"Can you stand?" I asked Serana.

"Can you put me down?" she asked in response. I nodded and put her down. Part of me wanted to laugh at the situation awkwardly, but I found I couldn't be cheery at that moment. Serana's feet touched the ground and Dawnbreaker was immediately back in my hand. Serana stared at me, puzzled. She'd been expecting a half-funny retort.

I glared at Dwemer and closed my eyes, brow furrowed. "Serana, if I ask you to do something for me, would you?"

"Depen –"

I turned to her, eyes frantic. "Yes. Or. No?" I demanded.

She stared at me for a while. She looked concerned about me. "I..."

"You're my friend. So please run, for me," I begged. Serana's golden eyes widened in shock. She opened her mouth, but was at a loss for words. She nodded. "Thank you. Now run."

I turned back to Dwemer as Serana left. "Getting rid of the leech while the weapons of gods battle?" Her eyes were still wide with manic glee.

"I destroyed you, Tanyin. I'm sorry," I said quietly, calming the mania in Dwemer's eyes. She squinted down at me with disgust. "But you're somewhat right. I didn't want her to be present for when I fight as I truly can." I quietly sheathed Dawnbreaker and lightning appeared between my fingers. She was a mage, so I'd need to take out her Magicka reserves then get in close. True, she was dangerous with a blade as well, but her art had always been Destruction Magick.

I'd always been better though.

The blast of Lightning that rushed from my hand pulverized the stone where she stood, but she had jumped out of its path. I had known the moment I had fired the blast she had escaped death at that moment. I rolled across the ground, knowing what was coming next, and narrowly escaped being frozen solid by a wall of Frost. Stone exploded from where Dwemer's spell hit the ground, raining down around me as my gaze followed her form falling to the ground. My mother's cloak flowed up behind her, looking like a black flame. She sneered, a look that perverted her perfect features, when she hit the ground. "Nice to see Ayleid hasn't lost his touch despite your efforts, Lucius," she spat.

I stood up slowly. "On the contrary, Ayleid was nothing compared to me," I replied calmly. I launched a bolt of lightning towards her left shoulder and she dodged right, right onto the fire rune I had cast while rolling. A spike of ice nearly hit me, but I moved to the side to be enveloped by a blast of Frost from the ground. It was painful, but the enchantments on my armor took the brunt of the Magickal energy, and my Breton blood saved me further. Still hurt awful, though.

"I've gotten better, too, luv," Dwemer snarled. Her robes glowed slightly, also having absorbed the fire rune. "Anything you can do, I can do better."

"Doubtful," I replied. I fired another of stream of Lightning, following her with it as she ran. The Magicka tore through the ancient buildings of Markarth's, ironically in retrospect, Dwemer city. Millennia old masonry crumbled to dust beneath the weight of my power, the city growing to match its people – dead.

I raised a ward as a beam of lightning rushed in, deflecting the Magicka in a flash of light. I regained my sight just in time to move my armored hand up to block an incoming kick from Dwemer, but not quickly enough to move out of the path of her second strike that snapped into the side of my head and sent me tumbling away. I was already channeling Restoration Magick when her foot hit my head, and was quickly back on my feet. She was faster than I remembered.

I fired another bolt of Lightning, one that quickly collided with one she launched at me. The Magicka met in the center of the distance between us, an ever growing sphere of Aetherial power in Nirn. "It seems you are not as strong as you had hoped!" Dwemer screamed over the sound of the colliding Magickal power. I growled, the echoes of the _Thu'um_ rumbling in my throat, but unable to turn the tide in my favor. As of yet, I had been unable to find a way to use the Voice while channeling Magicka; the concentration required of both was absolute. The sphere of power began to grow between us. "You have been weakened by your time with Men! A knife dulled by rust!"

"And you are a rabid animal!" I spat in retort. She laughed and jumped to the side, channeling just enough Magicka into the battle to deflect it out of her path and, instead, through the Jarl's palace. The ancient building seemed to shriek as large portions of it disappeared and the stone crashed to the ground. The boulders rolled down through the city, a veritable avalanche. I ran off to an alley between buildings, saving myself from one of the huge stones that tumbled through the streets.

"Like a skeever to a trap," Dwemer snarled behind me. I screamed in pain and fell to my back. Instinctively, I released my ancestor's magic in a vain attempt to defeat her will and save myself. She laughed. "You know I am too strong willed for that."

"But not for this, too," Serana's voice came.

"No..." I groaned. A green bolt crashed into Dwemer's body and she stumbled, visibly shaken. There was a pained shriek and a roar, the last thing I heard before my vision blacked out and Nirn was gone.

_**Jul **_– _**7 Eruvos Vod**_

**Ayleid**

"Why? Why, luv?" Tanyin asked as I stood up. I hadn't expected this from her – she hated the Thalmor more than any. But had I... Had I really changed her that much at Skingrad? I thought – "I am not Tanyin. I am Dwemer. Ayleid, why are you doing this? Luv?"

"Tanyin... Tanyin, this isn't who we are," I told her. "We can run, just like you talked about. You were right, this isn't... this isn't how people are supposed to live."

She stared at me and then down at the Thalmor. "We are not people," she said simply. She rushed forward, my mother's enchanted cloak flying out behind her. Roaring, she continued, "We are weapons!"

I ducked beneath her incoming blow and shouldered her in the gut as she was above me. She tumbled to the ground, then rolled to her feet and rushed once more to kill me. Still, I did not raise my sword. "Tanyin, please stop!" I begged, effortlessly moving past her blows. I raised a ward and her Flame spell was deflected into the wall. The Magickal flames took, and the Fort was on its way to being a pile of ash. Good, get rid of it all. "Tanyin, we need to get out of here!"

"I am Dwemer!" she screamed, tears streaming from her face. I stared in horror as I moved past her next assault. The scars on her neck, the ones I had left in the process of making her a monster like me, glistened with sweat on her neck. I dropped my sword and shoved the woman away from me.

"Stop, please, I'm begging you, Tanyin!" I screamed. I held my hand out to her. "We can escape. Be human."

She stared at me, her eyes hollow. "I can think of nothing worse," she said coldly. She rushed towards me and I rolled out of the way of her next attack. She tumbled over me and into the flames, shrieking in pain.

"Tanyin!" I screamed. I ran towards the flames.

She clawed her way towards me, skin ablaze. One arm was raised, glowing weakly with Frost. Her hair was melting into her scalp. "Die, Ayleid!" she snarled.

I looked down at the creature. "He already has," I told the husk at my feet. I turned away. "My name is Lucius." Then I walked away with tears streaming down my cheeks.

_**Jul **_– _**Nu**_

**Lucius**

I have vague memories of my time unconscious. There are images, things I barely saw as Serana dragged me from the city, and other sensations. The feeling of taut, dry, gray skin on my skin. The feeling of being hoisted into the air. The flapping of wings. Blood. Lots of blood. The iron scent wafted into my nose from all around and permeated my nightmares. Skingrad appeared before my eyes often in that fitful... I don't want to say sleep, because, really, I was passed out.

When I awoke, finally, it was dark and damp. The air smelled of freshness and rain that washed away the world. "Serana?" I croaked hoarsely. Gold eyes turned to me from the darkness. There was a flash of lightning from the sky followed by echoing thunder and I saw we were in a cave. For the briefest moment I could see the fear in Serana's eyes as she gazed at me. I groaned, a noise like a wild Horker's call, and pushed myself up to sit against the cave wall. It was made easier by the fact my armor was carefully laid on the cave floor nearby. I was dressed in my tunic I wore beneath the plate armor. "Serana, I... Thank you for saving me."

The gold orbs fixed on me bobbed up and down for a moment then gazed out into the night again. "You should get some sleep," I suggested.

"It's night," she replied.

"We need to move during the day, Serana," I reminded. She sighed and turned back to me. Another flash of lightning revealed her face was still coated with a quiet fear. I let my head fall then shook it. "Ask the question, Serana."

"What are you really?" She was across from me now, her back against the wall. She sat down and our feet touched in the small width of the cave. "You weren't just some slave, were you?"

I smiled sadly. I ran my thumb across the knuckle of my finger. "No, I wasn't. You said you didn't hold it against me that I was forced to kill cities. I'm a different person now, or whatever?" I began. I shook my head. "I didn't kill cities. I wiped them away. For all their faults, the Thalmor are very good at training Mages, especially the ones whose lives they don't care about.

"They pushed me – us, me and Tanyin – to the very brink of Magicka. We tested all the most dangerous theories on Destruction Magick, Summoning Magick. Anything they could use in their coming war with the Empire. For instance, did you know that the entire world – all of Nirn – is made out of Aetherial energy? Everything was crafted by the Divines from their own bones, their own lifeblood. As much as we deny it, Nirn is almost like a Plane of Oblivion or Aetherius in its own right. Anyways, we learned all sorts of things one could do with Magick. There are craters in Valenwood where rebellious Bosmer cities were turned to ash overnight." I smelled the fires. I looked up at her and forced a broken smile. "You were wondering who she was, correct?"

"It doesn't matter. She should be dead, now," Serana explained. She smiled coldly. "She didn't make it when I saved you."

I almost fell for it. Almost. I was smiling, thinking I was once again free from the Thalmor. Then it hit me. "Was she still wearing the black cloak?"

"What?" Serana asked, worry creeping into her voice. She shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know. Why?"

I sighed and looked down at the ground. I pulled my knees up to my chest and nearly cried. I had come so close. "The cloak is enchanted. Once for a life beget on Mundus, it delays Arkay."

"It... what?"

"If you are murdered wearing the cloak, you die. And then you come back, whole again. Fixed. But only once," I explained. Serana looked astonished. "It's a trick I picked up. Haven't been able to pick it up again. It's too difficult."

"S-so she's not dead?"

"No. And now she's going to come after us with everything," I told her.

Serana seemed scared. "That wasn't everything she had?"

"That?" I replied. I laughed and saw Serana tense in fear. "That was the warm up. The fight hasn't even started yet."

_**Jul**_

**Dwemer**

The dead city was silent, with no living creature of Mundus within her walls. Markarth was now the city twice abandoned because of gods and their games. Not a single soul remained within the walls of Markarth.

And suddenly, that was no longer true.

The woman's body shot up, her back arching painfully. The world _burned_. Her throat begged for water. Her stomach felt empty, devoid of any sustenance. The sun bore down on her with heat like fire. It was a struggle for her to even stay awake in the pain, the aching brokenness.

Then, slowly, it was over. Air flooded into her lungs and cooled her. Her tongue was no longer like a cotton ball in her mouth. Soon, she noticed that she had been unable to move her hands, unable to blink, and now she could. Her heart slowed back to its normal, quiet _thump-thump_. She pushed herself to her feet and hissed in pain: her gut still hurt from where that Vampire bitch had gutted her with gray, cruel claws. But it was whole, at least.

Compulsively, Dwemer ran her hands down her head to calm herself. The smooth skin of her neck and shoulder greeted her and she stopped in unsure puzzlement. "Something is wrong," she hissed to herself. She ran her fingers up and down her neck again a few times before she began to hyperventilate. "No.. No, they can't be gone. No..." Her breathing grew more and more erratic. "No, no... No..."

She wildly tore at her belt, struggling to unsheath the dagger at her hip. She could not help herself, she could not stop herself. Her skin was clean, it was fixed. It was _broken_. Her only reminders of Ayleid and his kidnapping at Luc's hands. This was not right to her, it was not right for her skin to be that of Tanyin once again. To be like that human was weakness, was _wrong_ and _dirty._

Dwemer raised the blade to the side of her neck and began to laugh maniacally, shaking her entire body with insanity. Then she ran the blade over her skin, igniting her flesh and burning a scar into her neck. She gasped in pain, but quickly moved the blade down and did the same again. Again. Again. Again. Again until all the scars had returned to her. The air sizzled with the scent of burning flesh, a scent that calmed Dwemer. She ran her hands gratefully up and down the fresh scars that now crisscrossed her neck. She sighed contentedly as the remains of her sanity returned to her.

Then she grabbed the knife and did the same to the other side of her neck.


	34. A New Order:Preparations

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"You did a fine job in bringing this to me," Harkon said, smiling as he gingerly replaced the Bloodstone Chalice upon its shrine. His expression soured and he glowered at the bloody, cursed water within. "While I endeavor to bring the next phase of this war to fruition, there are... tasks I would ask of you."

I frowned. "Indeed?" I traced my finger along the lip of the Chalice. "What would you have of me, Lord Harkon?"

The old fool smiled grimly. "There is a... threat to our goals," Harkon began explaining. He turned from the chalice and frowned. "I sent an agent of mutual hatred after one of our enemies. One whom I truly believed was capable of killing Lucius Atmoran."

If I were still alive, I would have been fighting to keep my heart from beating faster. He would dare?! Lucius Atmoran and I are intrinsically linked; for any other to kill him would be a stain upon my eternity. "And what came of this?"

Harkon smiled, amused. "Worry not, Thera. I know of your burning desire to eliminate him yourself," the Vampire Lord assured. "It would appear, the agent I sent was incapable. Atmoran is stronger, perhaps, than I anticipated. I was sure that this one would kill him, saving us both time and energy for the True Domination."

Weakling. I understood, now, why Molag Bal wished his former prized warlord dead. He had become complacent, weak. He was content to allow others to dominate his greatest enemies in his name rather than to destroy in the name of his Prince of Domination. Harkon was, unwittingly it seemed, trying to supplant the Daedric Prince. To be quietly replaced would anger me, indeed.

"And this True Domination is..?"

Harkon grinned. "All in due time," he said. Slimy bastard. "For now, the Chalice is incomplete. The waters are still cursed, weakened. There are locations throughout Skyrim wherein the body of a powerful, ancient Vampire was buried. Foolish mortals, the predecessors of those with whom we war now, killed this Vampire and tore the body limb from limb. Placed it everywhere but together. Now, their actions so long ago shall be their doom. Collect the corpse of the Vampire Ancient, and we shall use it to dominate all in our path."

"Indeed," I said. I bowed slightly. "I will make haste as soon as I know where to go."

"Talk to Garan Marethi for the locations," Harkon said. I turned to leave. "Wait... I would also ask of you another favor, though perhaps it is one you wish to be given anyways."

I stopped and looked over my shoulder. "This agent you sent was a fool. If I happen to find my _Jokaar_ in the wide world, rest assured that I will find a way to end him."

"He has my daughter as well," Harkon said. He _actually, almost_ looked like he cared for the woman. I was not sure if that care was a lie or not. "When you kill him, ensure she returns in one piece lest you suffer my rage."

I smiled. He thought he could dare to cross blades with me? "Of course, Lord Harkon. I wouldn't dream of it."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Is that a damn troll!?" I screamed as Serana and I approached the castle. The brown creature made a moaning wail as it ran past me screaming. I let my sword fall to my side as it continued to run and scream on the path away from the fort. "And... it's terrified. That's a first."

"COME BACK HERE YOU DAMNABLE CREATURE!" a heavy Nord voice screamed from the top of the hill. Serana and I, both confused, glanced upwards at the man doing the screaming. He was dressed in Dawnguard armor, with shoulder length brown hair. "I'm not done with you yet, you cowardly ape!"

The man careened down the hill, rushing past us without giving either the freakishly tall man or the Vampire a second look. "Who is this guy?" I asked Serana. She shrugged, and the two of us returned our attention back to the Nord, who proceeded to chase the troll down and tackle it to the ground. "I don't even want to know right now, but I'll still ask. What is going on?"

"Ah, that's Gunmar for you. He trains Trolls for battle," a voice said from behind us. We turned to see a Breton woman. She wore gray heavy Dawnguard armor with assorted Dwarven trinkets and jewelry on her neck and wrists. She smiled. "I'm Sorine Jurard, an old... well, friend I guess would be too nice. Isran and I knew each other a while ago. Gunmar too." She glanced over at Serana. "And given your Sanguinis friend, I can only assume you are the Dragonborn we have heard Isran complain about so much."

"Oh, great start with the boss, then?" I joked, earning a chuckle from Serana.

"It just means he respects you," Sorine assured. She glanced over my shoulder. "I'd avoid Gunmar, Serana. Most, people here actually. They don't trust Vampires, with good reason usually."

"And you do?" Serana asked.

"I think you left your family for a human. That says a lot," Sorine replied, smiling knowingly.

"I... not... I didn't..?"

Sorine winked and walked away. "What was that about?" I asked the visibly blushing and flustered Serana.

"Nothing!" she snapped. She shook her head. "Let's just... find Isran."

"Is something wrong?" I asked. I reached out to place my hand on Serana's shoulder but stopped when she glanced at me, eyes red. I flinched and retracted my hand nervously. "Okay, let's go." I began walking up the hill with her at my side, eager to not die at her frustrated hands.

"So... What that woman said – Sorine, right? Yeah, what did she say that bothered you?" I finally asked as we neared the open gates of Fort Dawnguard. Serana hissed threateningly and pulled her hood further down over her face. "So... You don't want to talk at all now? Are you tired, is that it? I thought your thousand year nap would still be tiding you over."

"Keep going. You're making me hungry," Serana half joked. I chuckled and shook my head.

"At least we can tell Isran you were telling the truth," I supplied, changing the topic. Serana sighed in relief as I did. "And that the Dawnguard need to watch out for Tany- Dwemer."

Serana frowned and began to look worried as we walked. "I wouldn't wish having to look out for her on anyone," the Vampire groaned, her eyes returning to their usual golden brown. She shivered. "I hope they don't have to worry about that."

"I wish I didn't," I groaned as we entered the huge gates of the Fort. Some of the Dawnguard hissed at each other and moved away as Serana and I neared. She pulled her hood down as the shadows of the Fort hid us from the sun.

"_We._"

I stopped and looked over at her. I stared at her for a while. "I..." I smiled and nodded. "No one I'd rather have at my side."

She blushed and moved to pull her hood back up. I grabbed her wrist. "No I..." I looked at the ground and let go of Serana's hand. A pregnant pause formed between us.

"I see you came back, then. What news do you bring from Markarth?"

We both turned suddenly, thankful for the break in tension. "Isran," I said, nodding in greeting. "City's empty, with signs that Molag Bal was there. I didn't find anything to suggest Serana was lying."

Isran cursed loudly. "Dammit! So they have the Dragonborn, then."

"Um, I'm right here you know?!" I snapped. "Thera's _a _Dragonborn, not _the_ Dragonborn!"

"Oh, yeah. Great, a consolation prize," Isran sighed. Serana groaned sympathetically and patted me on the back. "Ugh, and I'm betting you want a job, too. Fine. I have one that may be of interest to you."

"What is it?" I asked, my pride still bruised from his assault of apathy.

"Two things. On your way back from your assignment, I need you to get something from the College in Winterhold. I know you are the Archmage, so it should be... easier for you to get your hands on the Elder Scroll there."

I frowned. "I doubt it. I brought it up to the head of the Arcaneum once and he – well, I understand why people are afraid of him, now."

"Better there than in the Vampire's hands, but still... try to bring it back," Isran commanded gruffly.

"Okay. And the first part of it?" Serana asked.

Isran glared at the Vampire, then turned back to me. "Also, I need you to head to Solitude. I have reason to believe that there is a Vampire present in Elisif's High Court."

"A... Vampire?" I mumbled. For some reason, that rang a bell of familiarity in my mind. I sighed. "I'll look into it. With the city's proximity to Volkihar Castle, even if it's not true it's worth looking into." I looked over at Serana, grinning. "You in, travel buddy?"

Isran scoffed. I sighed, weary from the battles of the past and those yet to come. "Isran, there's something else I have to tell you."

"What's wrong?" Isran asked. The fear in my voice, causing his derisive, gruff demeanor to subside.

"I was not the only one present at the... at Skingrad," I explained. Serana shivered beside me. "She's hunting me, and she will likely come here. If she does, or if any of the Dawnguard encounter her, she will ask of me."

"We won't let her find you," Isran assured, bravado and pride in his features and voice.

I shook my head. "That's not it. This woman... she is far beyond what anyone here can hope to achieve."

Isran growled. "Don't underestimate me, b-"

"She could reduce this entire Fort to rubble in moments," I interjected calmly.

"She destroyed the remains of Markarth with nothing but Magick," Serana supplied.

"When I tell you she is dangerous," I warned Isran, "I mean that she is potentially one of the most powerful beings in all of Nirn."

Isran stared emptily. He finally shook his head and sighed. "Fine. I'll send her your way. Just make sure she doesn't burn down another city in your next fight."

I nodded. "See you soon, Sir," I said. I slammed my fist against my chest and bowed slightly. Isran did the same. He glared at Serana for a moment before nodding his head in curt acknowledgement. I smiled anxiously. Well, that's progress, I suppose.

As Serana and I exited Fort Dawnguard, the warriors glanced our way coldly and parted to avoid us. "Ugh..." I shook my head and groaned. I grabbed Serana's hand and she began to protest, flustered. "Just come on!" I ran off with her.

As soon as we were out of the Dawnguard's view, I slowed down until we could walk together. After a few minutes, she sighed. "What's wrong?" I asked her.

"It's just..." Serana stopped, and I was pulled to a stop as well. "Luc, why would you want to travel with a Vampire?"

"Why not?" I asked, smiling. I gasped with fake worry. "No. You're evil! You are, aren't you?"

Serana shot me a dry look, then laughed with amusement. Her face returned to ponderous worry. "But really, why? It's obvious it doesn't exactly make you any friends," she finally replied.

"Actually it's made me at least one friend – you," I disagreed. I shrugged. "I haven't thought about it. Sorry."

Serana groaned, looking exhausted. "It's fine," she said. She yawned suddenly, stretching her arms into the sky.

"Tired?" I asked with a laugh. I glanced up at the sky as it began to darken.

She nodded and rubbed her eyes. "Uh, it seems your stupid, mortal internal clock is rubbing off on me," she said between yawns. "Let's stop in Riften to sleep. We haven't slept in almost two days."

"Sleeping at night. Look, it's almost like I'm friends with a human," I supplied facetiously.

_**Jul **_– _**7 Eruvos Vod**_

**Ayleid**

"What are we doing here?" Tanyin asked me as our carriage slowed to a stop outside of Skingrad.

"Kill the driver," I demanded as I began to exit the carriage.

Tanyin's eyes widened. "B- but – No!" she begged quietly. "He hasn't done anything!"

I snarled while I turned back to her. Once our gazes met, I pulled a simple, iron dagger from my belt. Tanyin breathed in fearfully and grabbed at the side of her neck. Finally, she nodded. I replaced the dagger and jumped out of the carriage's cloth covered rear. Magickal Lightning crackled in the air behind me as she did away with the foolish, human eyewitness of our arrival in town. I pulled the hood of my mothe – of my cloak up over my head as I walked. Tanyin soon caught up to me. "Why would you have me do that?"

"Because we could," I replied simply. I placed my hands into the pockets of my travel robes. "Why not?"

We walked in silence. "Why are we here?"

"The Count of Skingrad has something incredibly important in his castle," I explained coolly. "The Lords have requested we obtain it."

"Well what is it?" Tanyin hissed as we entered the inn.

I shot her a look and she quieted down. I pulled my hood down and smiled widely at the owner of the establishment, a Bosmer. "Hi there!" I said to the blood-traitor.

He looked over and smiled. "Hi. Um, what can I do for you?"

"We... well, we're in love," I explained, a sheepish smile on my face. "I... I'm so sorry to ask this, but do you have a room below standard rate we could rent. It's only for the night – we'll be gone by tomorrow night." Not a lie.

The blood-traitor smiled. "I... of course. Anything for young love," he said. He pointed to the stairs. "Just head up the stairs, first room on the right, okay?"

"Thanks," I said, still smiling. I walked over to Tanyin and motioned for her to follow. As soon as we were out of earshot of the blood-traitor, I let disgust cross my features. "Fool."

I opened the door and entered before locking the room. There was only one bed. "We'll have to share," I supplied. Life as weapons of the Lords afforded no room for such weaknesses as humility or shame. Tanyin and I had already shared a bed in the Breeding Rooms as ordered by our superior Mer Lords, so it was little to merely share a bed for sleep alone. Still, I would have preferred my own bed.

Tanyin looked at the ground. She still had some sort of infatuation with me. It was obvious by the deep reddening of her cheeks. And because of what she said next. "We could actually do it, you know," she began. I stopped unpacking our scrolls, weapons, and plans. "What you told the innkeeper. We could run together."

I turned to her, silent and still. "We could run from the Lor – from the elves! We could run _anywhere_! Skyrim. High Rock... Anywhere."

"Why?" I asked. She cast her gaze to the ground, broken. "We are weapons. To live amongst refuse and excrement would only serve to dull our blades and weaken our metal. We fight to destroy for the Lords. Without that, our lowly existences would be devoid of any meaning."

"You're right," she acquiesced after a moment of silence. Her hand drifted to the scars on her neck. She was finally learning, it seemed, the lessons I was forced to teach her day in and day out. In this utter defeat, she could now rise from the ashes. "What are we taking?"

"Everything, dear Dwemer," I said, using the name she should respond to as one of the Lords' weapons. "We are to kill the entire city, burn it to the ground and blame it on some Vampire Hunters of some sort."

"What? We – we're killing them all?" she whispered.

"Indeed. And once we have done that, we are to collect from the castle's uppermost level an ancient artifact taken by the Count in his centuries long life from the land of the Lords," I explained. I smiled in dark anticipation of destroying the insects of this human town. "A staff of an ancient Lord wizard who lived centuries ago in the midst of the second era. It is imperative that no one know it is missing, and no one will look to check for it if the entire city is dead."

Tanyin looked at me with fearful eyes. She was horrified. I could tell she wished, for a moment, to refuse, to fight me and save the city of insects. Only for a moment. Soon, that foolish idea broke in her eyes and she was left as all us insects should be left – hopeless."As it must be.," she said, voice hollow.

"As it must be," I replied with a smile.


	35. Reprieve:Why Are You Doing This?

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"And what would lead you to believe that a Vampire would be present in my court, Dragonborn?" Elisif inquired, her voice simultaneously soothing and commanding. She did well as High Queen, though she still denied the hand of any courting her. Falk said it was because she still grieved for her husband, though I suspected differently. "Surely my Court Wizard would be able to suss them out."

"Indeed, Dragonborn," Sybille Stentor said. The Breton woman was a powerful mage, likely indignant of any insinuation against her powers of observation. "My magic would have found them long ago."

I looked over at Serana. Her hood was pulled low over her eyes. "Do you expect your companion to speak for you?" Falk asked, also angry about the accusation. I ignored him and continued to look at Serana. "Why are you even worried about this?"

"Besides your Lady being the High Queen?" I asked the red head. He stuttered nervously and I turned to Elisif whose face was a deep red. "I have recently come into rather... deadly contact with a very aggressive group of Vampires off of Solitude's coast. They are powerful, and they have done similar things before."

"What do you mean?" Sybille asked, worry in her voice. I looked over at the Breton. "I... This is the first we've heard of this."

"Vignar Gray-Mane. His short rule as Jarl of Whiterun was the bloodiest rule of a Jarl since Potema's final years. The city still has yet to recover," I explained. I shook my head. "This tribe, this... army of Vampires turned him. Their goal is nothing short of complete political domination across Skyrim, if not Tamriel. And it is likely that their goals go even further into the darkness."

"These Vampires were behind that?" Elisif whispered, horrified. Falk, Sybille, and the rest of the court fidgeted uncomfortably as their Queen considered what this meant. She sighed. "What do you need?"

I nodded. "Thank you, my Lady," I said with a bow. I turned to Sybille. "You pointed me in the direction of Vampires once two years ago. Could you possibly aid me now?"

The Breton opened her mouth, struggling with the decision. Too long, it appeared, as the choice was soon made for her. "Yes, of course," Elisif said.

Sybille bowed. "Of course, my queen," the wizard muttered. She looked at me and Serana. "Follow me, please." She turned on her heel and walked away. I grabbed Serana's hand and pulled – she wasn't looking, hiding her brilliant golden eyes and fangs from clear view. I felt her hand tighten around mine, cool marble between my fingers.

When we reached Stentor's room, Serana shut the doors behind us. "What's wrong?" I whispered to the woman. She shook her hooded head and leaned against the wall, keeping her hood up. I frowned and kept looking at her.

"We should begin," Sybille said, drawing my attention. She motioned for me to follow. "Do you have any Vampire Dust? It is important for the spell."

"Shouldn't you?" I asked the Court Wizard.

She laughed once. "I used it all earlier today. I'm afraid that I cannot do the spell without it," she explained.

"Not to worry, then," I replied quickly. I unbuckled a pouch from my belt. "I have more than enough – my partner and I have been getting into _far_ too many battles as of late."

Sybille looked almost disappointed. "Ah. Well, good," she said. She took the pouch and poured a small amount of the dust into her palm. "Yes, this should do." She handed the pouch back to me and walked over to her alchemy station. "Yes. Bring me that cauldron over there. If we pour the potion into it, the enchantment and alchemy should react and reveal if there is a Vampire in the castle. Unless there isn't, of course."

I frowned. Serana's presence could affect that poorly. "Will it also tell us how many?"

Sybille turned to the one who had asked the question, Serana. "Indeed, girl. Do you think I am a mere wizard? I am one of the best, perhaps more learned than the current archmage," she said proudly.

I smiled. "You definitely know more about some things," I said with a chuckle. I grew serious. "Let's hurry, then."

"Yes," Sybille said, a new fire in her eyes. I pulled the cauldron over to her Alchemy lab and let her get to work.

I walked away to stand with Serana. Quietly, I hissed, "Is something worrying you?"

"I just have a feeling," she muttered back. She hadn't moved at all since we entered the room, her eyes and fangs concealed still by her hood.

I laughed quietly and put my arm around her shoulder. "You worry too much," I said, leaning in to whisper to her.

"And you worry too little, especially for someone being chased by _that_ woman," she hissed back.

"Hm," I replied. My next breath brought Serana's scent into my nostrils and I smiled contentedly. My eyes snapped open and I leaned away. She was a Vampire Queen, I was a recovering mass murderer and Vampire Hunter. Best to ignore thoughts of that kind. Besides, best not to make a friendship awkward. "Well, no one said I was smart."

"Yeah, you'd never hear me say it," she joked. She angled her gleaming eyes to me and I could see the good natured smirk on her face. Damn, she was attractive. And there I go again.

I chuckled and began to retort, but was cut off by Sybille Stentor's call. "Sorry to interrupt your ceaseless, poorly done flirting, but I have good news. There are no Vampires in the Castle."

I saw, then, what Serana was trying to do. "Are you sure you did the spell correctly?" I asked. I put my hands at my hips, hiding that I was reaching for my blade.

"Look who you are talking to, Dragonborn. I am the best," she said haughtily.

My blade was immediately at her neck. Serana pulled down her hood, golden eyes glimmering. "I thought you were a Vampire," Serana told the Breton coldly. I looked at Sybille, slightly surprised.

"You brought a Vampire here!?" Sybille hissed. She shook her head and growled. "You must have given me false dust! You're under her control!"

"I'm not," I replied angrily. I marched forward. "When were you turned?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Do not dare to order me around, child," Sybille spat back. My blade pressed forward and she gasped in fear. "Fine. Decades ago. Being a traveling mage looking for work before meeting the king of the time afforded me the, in retrospect _good_ fortune, of fighting often for my life."

"What do you know of Harkon?" I asked, Dawnbreaker aching to move forward. I reigned its power in. "The Vampires off the coast. I'll know if you're lying."

"Nothing. I sent you after those Vampires years ago because I don't want to be found out. Powerful Vampires bring powerful scrutiny, and I would rather stay here until the illusion cannot be kept."

"Why do you want to stay here?" I asked, my eyes still like steel.

"I have served two High Kings and a High Queen. I am invested in this land's future, boy. In making it better. Believe me or not, kill me and be done with it," Sybille spat, making it clear she had no intention of answering further questions.

I stared at her for a while. "Goodbye, Sybille," I said. My blade rang through the air and I turned away, sheathing the blade. Serana stared at me, wide eyed.

I exited the castle without another word, stopping only when Serana neared me. "Luc! Luc!" she called as I slowed. "What was that!?"

"She has a genuine love for this place. She views Elisif as a daughter," I explained. "How could I kill her."

"She's a Vampire," Serana hissed back. "This is too close to Harkon to be coincidence!"

I laughed at the irony. "Oh, and you aren't?" I asked with a smile. Serana sighed and looked at the ground. "Coincidence? Probably not. Harkon? Definitely not. The gods have a funny way of testing us and teaching lessons."

"And what was the lesson here?" Serana asked, eyes narrowed.

I grinned and began to walk away. "Not every Vampire is a hideous creature, Serana, so stop with the self-loathing. You're pretty and nice, get over it."

Serana stammered for a moment, then sighed. "Let's just hurry to Winterhold."

_**Jul**_

**Ayleid**

The plan was simple enough. In order to gain entrance to the Count's castle, we would have to stage an event with a terrible death toll. The Count and his men would, as weaklings do, bring the entire village's population within the castle. From there, it would be easy to slaughter the condensed population of the village in one fell swoop. "This doesn't feel right, Ayleid," Tanyin whispered as we set the Magickal runes at each corner of the inn. "Why going to kill all of these people?"

"Insects, Tanyin," I corrected absently as I set another fire rune powerful enough to blow apart the inn and the building next to it. "We're killing insects. Excrement and refuse, remember?"

She sighed and set another fire rune. "Of course, Ayleid," she said quietly. Even without looking, I could tell one of her hands was pressed to the scars on her neck. Good. "But still – the castle is open to all. We could take what we were ordered to take and leave without bloodshed."

"Skingrad is important to the Empire. The entire West Weald is important," I snarled in reply. The girl was stupid, sometimes, and the depths of that moronicism astounded me. Though, perhaps it shouldn't have, given how she clung to the insects of her past. _Tanyin. _The name itself was born from weakness. To flee the strength of her name, Dwemer, was another weakness in of itself. If she could not embrace what she was, she would have to die at the end of this mission as well. The Lords had ordered it. "It borders the Dominion of the Lords and would be a prime location for their invasion of the insect's Empire."

"But why do they need that advantage if they are so superior?" she asked quietly.

I began to retort, but some part of me stopped myself. The Lords were superior, who was I to question their judgment. Yet... "We must move. The runes will activate soon," I said coolly. I grabbed Tanyin's arm and dragged her away from the alleyway. She stumbled after me, my greatest failure. The Lords expected me to create a weapon, and I could only manage to craft a defective weapon ready to crumble at any moment. How disappointing.

"Wait, I didn't set one of the runes!" she hissed. Tanyin rushed forward and I growled. She was going to end up getting herself killed. But, I believe that I still needed her. I rushed forward, trying to stop her before the runes emptied their Magickal reserves and burnt her to ash. I grabbed her arm and tossed her behind me.

"Dammit, woman. This isn't -" I was cut off by the fire exploding behind me, sending me tumbling to the ground. I hissed in pain as the flames took on my boots, burning into the leather. I grabbed dirt from the ground and poured it over the flames, extinguishing them.

"Gods, are you okay!?" a voice asked. A man rushed towards us, his hand charged with healing Magick. He looked between Tanyin and I. "Do you know what happened here!?"

"No," Tanyin said. She was truly scared, causing the man to believe her. She could not lie for her life without actually feeling the emotion. She glanced at me. "We... oh, gods they're all dead." She collapsed to her knees, eyes hollow. Weakling.

The man shook his head sadly and turned to me. "Let me get that leg fixed up," he said, placing his hand on my lightly cooked flesh. I smiled as soon as my flesh was fixed.

"Fool," I replied. The iron dagger in my hand slashed across his throat, silencing his scream before it came. I marched his body over to the fires and tossed it in, igniting it in a blaze. I smirked at the still living man as he burnt to cinders.

"Why would you do that?" Tanyin asked from the ground.

I turned to her, still grinning darkly. "Because there is no such thing as a useful insect. You should know that I would do the same to any who will not serve the Lords." Tanyin's eyes filled with further fear as the meaning of the words hit her. She clutched at the scars running across her neck and I smiled. "To the castle."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I ducked beneath the clumsy blow sent my way by one of the warriors guarding the second location given to me by Garan Marethi. One of the Ancient Vampire's arms sat in my bag, a shrunken, blackened piece of what it once was. I sidestepped the next blow, waiting for some sort of danger to spur me on. But no, the human I fought was a nothing. My blade ran him through after but a moment. I considered draining him of blood, but I would rather feed from those who are not the bottom of the barrel. Lucius' blood would be a good start.

I moved on, quickly dispatching the fools that remained without even stopping. If the best they could offer was weak fools, I would not waste my time trying to gain meager entertainment from fools. My blade must have tasted the substandard blood of dozens that I would not sully my fangs with, though even that seemed too lenient for those so weak.

As I neared the stairs down to the next level of the ruins, I heard the pounding of feet rushing up the stairs. I sighed at the foolishness of those rushing at me even as a dozen more of the ruin's guardians rushed up the stairs. I jumped forward as the first came close, knocking him back down the stairs and into his compatriots. They screamed as they tumbled together down the flight of stairs, many smashing their skulls into the edges of the stone steps as they fell. Those who survived fell to my blades as I walked to the bottom.

"I know what you are," a deep voice said as I entered the last room of the cavern. An old Orc man stood at the wall, blade drawn. "And if you defeated all here so quickly, I will not be able to win. I won't give you the satisfaction of making a fool of me."

"Ah, I would have enjoyed that, though," I responded, laughing. "Now, where is the Vampire's body?"

"I will urge you once," the Orc said quietly, "do not gather the pieces of this Vampire. If you value your own... unlife, you will not."

"And why is that?" I asked as I neared the man. He dropped his sword to the ground as I approached and furrowed his brow. "Are you that afraid of the Bloodstone Chalice?"

"The what?" the Orc asked. He shook his head. "I have no clue what this 'Bloodstone Chalice' is, woman. I know not what this Vampire is, I know only that there are portents of great doom surrounding it. Uniting these pieces will only serve to harm your kind as well as mine, immortal."

I smiled. "I doubt that," I said. I marched up to the Orc and held my blade to his throat. "Now. Either give me the body, or I will kill you _very _slowly until you tell me where it is. Make no mistake, though, you'll die either way."

"I appreciate the honesty," the Orc replied venomously. He glared into my eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can," I retorted. "You can't stop me, so just tell me where it is or I will make you tell me."

The Orc snarled at me, sneering for a solid minute. Stamina, that one. "It's in the chest over there."

"Was that so hard? I applaud you quitting while you were ahead," I told the man, smiling disarmingly. Then his head left his body. I looked at the skull in my hand. "Oh, it appears that I spoke too soon. _Now_ you're a head."


	36. Prelude to Prophet:Vampiresses

**AN: To Psyonic Dragon: Oh, I wouldn't worry. Things are about to get much worse for Thera, and Lucius won't know his luck has gotten worse for a while. He'll actually be happy, for a while. Imagine that, huh? Also, I've always thought of who is speaking in the chapter as who is telling the story, with all of the historical biases that would entail. I've always assumed that Thera would leave out details that looked bad for her whenever she could. For instance, she might say she killed someone with one slash of her blade without a scratch, but in "reality" it wasn't that easy.**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I frowned worriedly as I shifted the weight of the Elder Scroll across my back. I did not want the huge, glittering scroll to shine out in clear view of everyone we passed, but it seemed that I had little choice in the matter. The Scroll seemed incapable of fitting within any bag that I had, and defied logic when I tried to wrap it up, causing the covering to slide off or become too small. It was as if the Elder Scrolls and their power wanted to be seen by all, to fulfill some nebulous destiny that I did not understand even in the slightest. But still, I had it. Progress, for once.

I still couldn't shake the feeling something terrible would happen though. If Dwemer found Serana and me – really, the me is what she's looking for –it would be bad enough. But if the crazy assassin found us while we were carrying an Elder Scroll around? Well, I didn't really want to think about what the Thalmor would try to do with _that_ in their grubby claws.

"Look, do you want me to carry it?" Serana asked. The moons' light danced down around us, giving her already pale skin an ethereal sheen. It was pleasant.

I shifted its weight yet again. "No. I – look, it's fine. I'm fine."

Serana sighed. "Cause I can carry it for you, if you're having that much trouble," she explained. She reached out to grab the Scroll..

"No. I CAN DO IT!" I assured her. I lightly slapped her hand away.

"No need to whine," she grumbled, crossing her arms as we continued walking.

"I'm not whining!" I retorted with a huff. I shifted the weight of the Scroll again. "I can carry it, I'm fine!"

"Really, cause you've shifted it ten times in the past five minutes," Serana shot back. I glared exasperatedly at her as we walked down the road. "What!? You can't carry a single, all knowing, Magickal Scroll that can alter reality?"

"Oh, cause you know _everything_ about Elder Scrolls," I remarked dryly.

"Well... no," she admitted.

"Ha! Turns out you don't learn much just from sleeping with something!"

She smiled. "Are you saying that you want to learn more about me?"

My mouth dried as I tried to respond. Fire rushed into my cheeks. Finally: "Just take it," I croaked, slinging the Elder Scroll off of my shoulder. I held it out for her to take in one hand, the surprisingly heavy artifact almost falling as I did. It wouldn't have done much to it, of course. You could bash someone's skull in with the thing just by dropping it.

Serana laughed and looped the mystical Scroll over her shoulders. "I got you," she snorted, trying to stop laughing for even just a second. She looked at my deep red cheeks and laughed even harder. I mumbled in reply, and she cocked her head sideways. "What?"

I groaned. "I... I'd rather not," I grumbled. She stared at me as we walked, waiting for me to tell her. "I don't even remember."

"Come on. Just tell me," she ordered.

"I... Gods, I said, 'I wouldn't mind,'" I acquiesced. She froze and I walked past her nervously. I slowed, eventually, to a stop and turned back to her. She was gazing at the ground, her golden eyes hidden by her hair. She eventually looked back up at me, the stars and moons reflected in her eyes. She looked like a statue, carved with intricate detail. "I – just, never mind." I turned and began walking again. "Just... forget it. It was a joke. I -"

I gasped in surprise as the woman turned me around, pulling me close and letting our lips touch. Sparks seemed to erupt along my skin as she clutched at my cheeks, holding our faces together. My hands, sticking up in surprise, drifted down slowly to her hips. We stood there, beneath the twin moons, neither willing to be the one that would end the moment. A fire seemed to be burning around my heart and in my brain until I eventually had to be the one to pull away, just for breath.

I panted and looked down at the woman in front of me. She was looking up at me with eyes filled with... fear, expectant worry. It was easy to forget she was a Vampire, but it was almost always easy to forget that, I thought. She opened her mouth to say something, and let her hands fall to my armored chest. She closed her mouth and shook her head when I didn't move to respond, to say anything. "I'm sorry. That was -"

I pulled her close and placed my lips against hers again, quieting the fears in her voice.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I had collected four of five pieces of the Ancient Vampire's corpse, and had yet to see any sign of either Harkon's traitorous daughter or of my personal target. It was disappointing, honestly; I had wanted so much to have done in Lucius by now. I knew I was strong enough to kill the former slave, despite how close the battle would have been. Oblivion, I could have just threatened... Serva? Sirna? Whatever, you get my point. I could have just threatened, agh... dammit, what is her name!? Damn, Harkon's daughter, fine. I could have just taken that girl hostage and killed Lucius without a fuss.

I mean, she was enamored with him, after all. "In love," as the morons who believe in such things would say. It had been easy enough to see in those few times I had spoken to or around her. A single mention of the fool's name had caused her eyes to light up, her cheeks to get all rosy. Corners of her lips perking up in a shy, nervous smile. Gods, it was disgusting.

And with the girl being all "honor love good happy blah blah human blah," well, Lucius would inevitably fall for her as well. She ran from her family for him and "the right thing." And to be fair, she was attractive, for a human. Ugh, it is so very him. And I can tell because it is so very _not_ me. Could he be any less intelligent if he tried?

I mean, he keeps making idiot mistakes and somehow not ending up dead. How had I not killed him yet? It was almost like he was _begging_ for it. Ergh...

Hmm... where was I? Oh, Ancient Vampire. Well... it turns out that wasn't a good idea. Just like the crazy old Orc said, actually. I was standing outside of the final location. It was a simple cave. It didn't have any claims by bandits or Falmer or Necromancers stuck into the ground outside of the entrance. It was... just a cave. Which, in retrospect, should have told me something.

Every other location of this Ancient Vampire's exsanguinated corpse had been guarded by a small army. Nothing except an extremely skilled former Thalmor could have taken the pieces of the corpse and assembled them. So, it was unnerving when the final cavern containing the skull was found completely empty. The skull just sat there, nothing guarding it. Nothing looking for it. There was merely the _mouthwatering_ scent of blood in the air and a plaque with just a few words etched into it. Ignoring the words, I grabbed the skull and tossed it into the bag containing the rest of the corpse, a decision I would learn to immediately regret. I found an enemy, just then, even more dangerous than my _Jokaar_.

I turned to leave the cavern, ready to drop the oddly smelling corpse off at the Castle and renew my hunt for the slave. However, it seemed that my easy victory was not meant to be. The bag containing the five pieces of the Vampire was heavy, it contained a full corpse after all. It was difficult to carry on the best day, all those jumbling pieces. However, it soon became impossible to hold, suddenly and inexplicably shaking. It pulled me in every direction as the pieces within the white tarp thrashed wildly, causing the bag to roll and congeal in different shapes. I hissed as I tried to pull it back under my control, nearly doing so many times but always losing control at the last moment.

Then the thrashing stopped. I froze for a moment, then pulled the bag closer. As soon as I did, a blow landed heavily in my midsection and I was sent flying into the wall. Dust and stone erupted from around me and I was stuck leaning against a small crater in the wall. I groaned in pain, then forced my vision back to the bag. I drew one of my blades as the bag, now on the floor, began to rustle. "Show yourself, or die!" I commanded with a hiss. I took a staggering step forwards and nearly collapsed on the ground.

"Are you sure about that?" a woman's voice asked. I growled at the unfamiliar accent that drifted through the air, thick and exotic and filled with blood lust. A single long, pale arm erupted from the bag and was quickly followed by its pair. With a fluid, terrible grace, the hands glided across the ground. The hands clenched on the ground, pulling a long, slender body behind it and pushing it up to its feet. I watched, fearfully, as the naked woman turned her eyes to me. She was human, it looked, though what type I could not put my finger on. She was incredibly pale, like a Nord, but held a familiar Imperial or Breton look to her features.

And she was a Vampire. Glowing red eyes filled with disgust stared out from her skull, bloody pools that searched for blood in kind. Fangs drifted from behind her upper lip as she sneered at me. I wished to run from this creature, this evil goddess before me. And, yet, I found I was incapable of moving even the slightest. She continued to glare as she walked towards me, disgust only abounding more and more in her bloody eyes. "You smell like me," she finally said as she came near, a perpetually angry frown on her face. She leaned close and I began to shake in fear. There was something... primordial about this woman. I struggled to move the sword in my hand, to bury it in her flesh and save myself; I could do nothing but watch in terror. She raised her hand and twisted my head to the side.

Her touch, skin curdling as it was, caused my mind to reawaken. I brought my blade down, carving through the flesh of the woman's side until the blade was buried in her chest. She looked down bored and took a step back, taking my blade with her. I smiled in victory, which quickly turned to horror as her flesh seemed to melt back together around the sword. She reached down and pulled the sword from her chest with another movement of unnatural grace. "No. Weaker than me," she said with a frown. She shook her head. "Hm, still, blood is blood."

I began to hyperventilate as she tossed my sword to the side. "Hm..." she looked down at her naked body. "Yes, I'm going to need your armor, aren't I?" She looked back up at me and moved with deadly menace. She suddenly appeared before me, her hand gripping my head and twisting it to the side once again. I struggled fearfully against her grip.

"Let me go," I whispered. This was the first time in... ever, actually, that I had been afraid. It was as if she... turned off my mind until all that was left was this... ugh, subhuman creature. I was truly nothing before her, and I could do nothing to change that. "Let me go or I will destroy you!"

The woman rolled her eyes and slammed my head into the stone again, cracking it against my skull. I gurgled against her grip on my throat and she moved her left hand to my chin and her right hand to my shoulder. "You made a terrible mistake awakening me, Vampire. You smell like me, which means you serve Molag Bal. My vengeance over him, my domination of my destroyer, requires I destroy all who follow him. Lamae will not bow to any."

My eyes widened in fear. Lamae... I screamed in pain as her dagger like teeth buried themselves in my neck, tearing through my flesh in the most painful way possible. Blood rushed from my body in a river, filling the Vampire draining me to the brim with the power we fed upon. She squeezed my body, causing the blood to flow even quicker from the jagged wounds in my throat that she drank from. I blacked out to the hideous laugh of the god who had tricked me.

Hours later, as I pulled on the light armor I had been given before leaving Castle Volkihar, I was near tears. This woman, she was a force of nature. A terrifying goddess of retribution and destruction that would bathe the world in blood. If she did not cause my blood to freeze, I might have respected her. I walked silently over to the plaque – no, the warning.

_You took her bones and blood._

_We could not stop you._

_So many died to end her red flood,_

_So leave here, without a piece or two._

_Lest you wish to end us all_

_At the hands of Lamae Bal._

_**Jul**_

**Dwemer**

Dwemer laughed lightly to herself as she rode the horse down the road. Its prior owners were rotting in the night far behind, their blood feeding the flowers aside the road. Fool traders who did not know their city was dead. Insects crushed beneath the heel of her boot.

The woman clutched the cloak around her shoulders close, despite the fact that it had become useless to her. It calmed her, reminded her of the one she was chasing. She traced her remade scars and sighed as the pain from the untreated burns tingled in her throat made its way through her body. "Soon, luv," she muttered to herself as the night air blew against her, cooling her pain. "Soon you'll be back amongst your peers, the best... not this refuse."

"And you are the best?" a woman's voice drifted from the darkness. Dwemer turned and jumped from the horse, twin fires in her palms. A single woman with glowing red eyes, adorned in glass armor, was staring at her. She had a smug, knowing smile across her face. Dwemer took a step towards the woman, threat in the very motion itself. "And you aren't afraid? Well, well, it has been a _long_ time since I have met anyone that is not afraid."

"And you are obviously insane," Dwemer noted. She raised her arm and a pillar of flames erupted around the woman. As soon as the Redguard was sure that this newcomer had been turned to ash, she stopped and turned around.

"No, but you obviously are," the woman said, right in front of Dwemer's face. "Ah, I'm thirsty. It's been millennia, if I am right. You and I have a lot of work to do." The Redguard could do nothing but scream in rage, and perhaps fear, as the woman's mouth opened to reveal twin fangs. Then the world went red and, eventually, black.


	37. Prophet:Assignments

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Serana and I marched confidently into the main doors of Fort Dawnguard, the two of us simultaneously oblivious yet keenly aware of the looks being cast in our direction. The back of her hand drifted closer to me and our fingers dragged against each other for a moment before pulling apart. I fought to keep the fire in my cheeks down and calm my beating heart. Serana, meanwhile, had the edges of her lips curled upwards in a soft smile. "Well, it's about time that we had some good news," Isran said as we neared. He motioned for Agmaer, another of the new recruits, to take the Scroll from Serana. He did so, not missing the opportunity to shoot an angry glare at her while he did. "What's the news from Solitude?"

I glanced over at Serana, then back at Isran. "None of Harkon's Vampires were there," she said, crossing her arms. I nodded, backing her up. It wasn't a lie... per se.

"Queen Elisif's court is not going to be a problem," I said. Isran's glare shifted, no less hostile, from Serana to me. "And I hope you're happy with the Scroll – it cost me an arm and a leg, along with some... probably illegal readjustments of the College's funds towards the Arcanaeum."

"Do I look like I care?" Isran said as he returned his gaze to the map on the table. Soldiers bustled around him. It seemed Morthal's guards finally made it to the Fort for training.

"No, but it would have been nice," I said dryly. Isran tossed me another angry glare. "Or not. What next, grumpy?"

The man glared at me with hate, but I just smiled back disarmingly. Nothing could get in the way of my good mood at that moment. Serana's hands rubbed against mine and our fingers entangled. "Oblivion... I didn't think you would do it," Isran finally said.

The smile disappeared. "Uh, what?" I asked, already knowing that he knew. Serana pulled her hand away from mine hurriedly.

Isran shook his head. "Give us the room," he told the Dawnguard. They stopped, staring at the man. "Go!" The soldiers ran from the room, many still carrying scrolls and maps. The Elder Scroll was left on the table, glimmering with ancient power.

Isran sighed and leaned against the table, arms crossed and staring at Serana and me. "I didn't think that even you, even _you_, Lucius, would be this stupid," he grunted.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Serana muttered.

I shot her a glare, but couldn't help laughing with her just a bit. "Shut up, leech," Isran snapped.

I growled and stepped forward, hand on my blade. Isran stared for a moment, then began laughing uncontrollably. My hand fell from Dawnbreaker; Serana and I exchanged confused glances. "Well, that proves it. I knew, hoped not, but I _knew_ you couldn't help yourself," Isran said, his laughter calmed. He shook his head at me, somewhere between mystified and disappointed. "You shacked up with the enemy."

"You know I'm right here, right?" Serana asked, glowering at the man.

"And?" Isran asked. He groaned and stood up. He began to shake his head in time with my name. "Lucius, Lucius, Lucius. What are we going to do with you?"

"Buy me a vacation home in southern Cyrodiil?" I suggested, earning another laugh from Isran. "You're taking this... oddly well."

"You slept with a Vampire. What am I going to do, kill you? You two got me the Elder Scroll, so fine. Do what you want," he said. He shrugged. "As long as you don't... turn, do whatever you want. Speaking of doing things, I have your next mission."

"Already? Joy," I grumbled. I felt my fingers interlock with Serana's and I smiled. "What is it?"

"Well, I've got another friend I need you to find. Gods, I wish we didn't need him, but we do," Isran replied. I frowned inquisitively. "You have to understand – he's crazy, thinks he hears Arkay, but I'll be damned if Florentius Baenius can't hear the quietest whispers about the enemy."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"Where is the Ancient Vampire?" Harkon sneered down at me as I collapsed on the rug of his chambers. His sword was drawn, ready to kill me for my failure. I could barely move; I was starving, having barely been able to even make it back to Castle Volkihar before my strength gave out. "You failed!"

"I don't think it was that simple," I snarled at the idiot. My vision darkened – even speaking was difficult at this point. "Blood..."

"Why? Why should I allow you to live, hm?" the Vampire Lord spat from above me. He placed his Akaviri blade atop my neck, ready to end my life. I couldn't do anything to stop him, physically. "Give me one reason to let such a failure survive."

"It was Lamae Beolfag," I whispered hoarsely before falling forward, unconscious.

I was awoken some time later, my jaws already clenched tightly around the throat of a dying Nord. Her blood streamed through my very being, awakening all of me and ridding me of many aches and pains. Though not all – the scars on my neck burned with aetherial, Magickal fire and served as a constant reminder of what I hated the most. Fear. "Lamae Beolfag, the Blood Matron," Harkon said as the Nord in my clutches fell into eternal slumber. He sighed and turned back to me. "That... I thought surely that her death at the hands of that army so long ago, headed by the Dawnguard of that time, had killed her. It would seem Lord Bal's domination of her death continues even now."

I clutched at the white marks on my throat. "I couldn't move around her," I explained.

"Yes, she has that effect on Vampires moreso than she even has on Mortals. The First Vampire is something beyond what any of us could ever become. A goddess of blood and mayhem who aims to dominate Molag Bal himself," Harkon explained, fear tinging his voice. "And... it has never been clear if she could succeed or not."

"So we have to kill her?" I insisted.

Harkon laughed loudly. "I doubt we could. No, I think the mortals will destroy her for us once again. Barring that... If you have an idea, please follow through on it," Harkon said. He frowned. "For now we will follow our plans as they were. I have... enticed a Moth Priest to come to Skyrim. We will need him to read my Elder Scroll, and advance my plans. Go to Dragon's Bridge and escort him, as well as those sent to collect him, back here. I will ponder what to do with the Blood Matron.

_**Jul**_

**Ayleid**

We were crowded, Tanyin and I, within the main hall of Skingrad's castle accompanied by the remaining soon-to-be dead Insects of the West Weald's capital. The Count was nowhere to be seen, though his steward was guiding the movements of the guards and citizens in his absence. Rather well, for an Insect.

Tanyin was fidgeting behind me, her nervousness actually aiding our mission. She looked like just another terrified Insect – though, I suppose she was. I sighed to myself – I would have to kill her, wouldn't I? I must admit, the thought was not... pleasant. It repulsed me, actually, but it was the duty I had been given by the Lords, and I must fulfill it if the time came. Until then, though: "I'm going to get what we need from the attic," I whispered to Tanyin. She flinched at my voice, her hand immediately on her throat. There was a hollow fire in her eyes that mirrored the blaze of the inn we had created. It was new, and a welcome change. "Make sure that no one leaves, and kill the guards five minutes after I leave. I want the Insects placid, afraid when I come back, do you understand?" She nodded. "Good. See you soon."

I stole away, the black of my cloak wrapped around me and blending into the shadows. I pulled the hood up and it was as if I was not even there, as invisible in the darkness as the master of this castle no doubt was. I made my way up the many floors of the castle, coming ever closer to the item that we had been sent to retrieve.

I quietly moved through the door, closing it behind me. There, before me, was what I had been searching for – "You came for the staff of Vanus Galerion, eh?"

I turned, sword already in hand. Fire crackled at my fingertips, ready to burn my new enemy to a crisp. He was middle aged, it looked, with dark hair that had only truly begun to gray by the time he had been turned. He wore deep black clothes with gold filigree, expensive, tasteful dress. The Count of Skingrad was many things, but uncultured he was not. "Well? Speak up, Thalmor," he snapped. A bloody, red light began to glow in the center of his palms and his golden eyes burned in the shadows. "I haven't got all day!"

I pulled down my hood. "Indeed I have, Leech," I snarled as the fire returned to my grasp. He looked almost surprised upon seeing my face. "Surprised I am human?"

"No, I guessed they had slaves," the Count replied. He let his hands fall to his side. "I'm going to die tonight."

I couldn't help myself – my curiosity was piqued. "Yes, obviously. Though most of my victims tend to have more fire in their eyes."

He looked up at me. "I haven't dreamed in... centuries," he explained. "And today I dreamed you would kill me."

"If you weren't a human I would say that the gods smiled upon you, giving you a prophecy," I laughed. I began to walk towards the Vampire, ready to kill him.

"I also dreamed you would die," he replied. He raised his arms, unleashing a stream of red Magicka. The spout hit me in the chest and I staggered back. The Vampire seemed to grow younger before me, my life force feeding his. I snarled and lashed out with my sword, causing the Vampire to hiss and move away. His Magicka faded as he became distracted.

I scrabbled to my feet, a stream of fire already directed at the Count to give me more breathing room. He snarled and sidestepped the flames, agilely turning as he did and shooting off another blast of red Magick towards me. I growled and dropped my flames, raising a ward just in time to absorb the energy, re-energizing my body and life force. "Then I suppose the gods were laughing at you!" I snapped, moving towards the weaponless Count. He roared in rage, dropping the stream of his Magick and rushing at me with his fists. His fangs glinted in the light of the moons and my blade ran through his chest.

He stared at me as blood began to run from his mouth. He coughed, sending red spittle to collide with my face. "You will die tonight," the Vampire warned, his eyes white. He looked much older, like a gray old man. "And after that, you will become what you secretly yearn to be."

My eyes widened and my fists shook in rage. The sword in the Count's chest began to tear chunks of his flesh away and he screamed in pain. "_**You know nothing!**_" I spat. I brought flames to my hand and tore my sword from his body. "And you will die knowing that everyone in your precious city will know what you are." I swung my blade down, tearing his head from his shoulders. I burned the rest of the body as I picked up the skull. I grabbed the staff, a beam of circular wood no taller than me with arcane sigils and art carved into the shaft.

"Ayleid!" Tanyin shouted as I entered. She smiled widely, bathed in blood. She, with shaking hands, dragged her knife across the throat of the last guard. She shook with glee as the woman gurgled and fell to her knees, clutching at her throat to try and stem the flow of blood. "Now can we kill the rest?"

I smiled and began to respond, only to be cut off by a loud horn echoing towards the city from outside. I growled to myself – our intel had been incorrect. I turned slowly and walked towards the window. In the distance was a dim, glowing fire. The Imperial Legion of the West Weald, led by one of the Insects' 'heroes' of the war. "You can. Be creative, do anything you think I'd be proud of," I told her. She smiled with anticipation. Tanyin was dead, it seemed, or quickly on her way to being such. She walked up to me and dragged her bloody hands across my cheeks before bringing me into a kiss, her bloody face pressing up against mine. Our tongues warred in animal passion until she let me go. I smiled darkly and licked the red fluid from my lips. "Have fun, Dwemer. I'll be back with the head of the Legion's general." I turned and jumped from the window, ready for some carnage.


	38. Prophet:The Other's Bane

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I could tell, as soon as Serana and I began to approach Ruunvald, that something was wrong. Vigilants of Stendarr were there, talking, happily conversing, though they all seemed... off. The Vigilants weren't exactly known for their sunny dispositions, true, but neither were they visibly hostile to anyone that was not running around worshiping Daedra or drinking blood. These Vigilants looked like they wanted to tear my throat out just for being there.

"What is it you want, Outsider?" a gruff, Norse voice asked as I neared the entrance of the ruins. I was cut off by a broad, armored shoulder. I glanced down, though only just, at the Nord man glaring into my eyes. "The Fane is under our guard until we have cleansed it of the undead."

I smiled disarmingly. "I mean no harm. I was sent here with a similar intent, though on a much larger scale."

The man grunted, "What?"

"There's someone here, and we need his help. We'd be glad to aid you in clearing the ruins if it means we can talk to him," Serana replied. She glanced up but was careful to keep her eyes covered by her hood. I inwardly laughed as it occurred to me just how opposite her actual personality Serana was around other mortals. She was proud, powerful, and sarcastic but forced to constantly look at the ground and give off the air, whether by design or accident, of a timid girl.

The man let his arm fall and smiled wide. "Of course, any help would be greatly appreciated!" he said, his teeth shining in the sun. He placed his hand on my shoulder, a stiff and inexact movement. It didn't feel right, none of it felt right. It felt like... "Who is it you're looking for?"

"Florentius Baenius," I replied. The man's eyes shifted to a dark rage. It was only for a moment, but it was more than long enough for me. Dawnbreaker hissed with warning at my side, and I drew the Magickal blade. I quickly jumped towards the tomb, putting distance between the man and me.

"What is the meaning of this?" the man asked, his hand drifting towards the greatsword on his back. I motioned for Serana to come towards me and she practically disappeared. The Nord Vigilant fell to his knees as Serana clipped his achilles tendons and appeared next to me.

"You aren't friends, I can tell that much," I snarled as the squad of Vigilants – around four other than the man screaming in pain at our feet – guarding the exterior of Ruunvald converged on Serana and me. I ducked under the first incoming blow and lifted the incoming fake over my shoulders, using the momentum to toss him into the stone wall behind me face first.

"You either get a warm reception," Serana shouted above the fray of battle as she deflected an ax blade and fired an ice spike into the skull of the one assaulting her, "or one where everyone tries to murder you!"

"I'm a polarizing figure," I responded before deftly grabbing the wrist of the last of the enemy and slamming my forehead into his temple. He dropped his sword and screamed in pain, clutching at his head. I quickly separated the man's head from his shoulders.

"Took you long enough," Serana said as the corpse hit the ground. She was already standing above the two bodies of her enemies.

I shook my head, invoking Talos inwardly for the souls of the recently departed. "I suppose I'm getting slow," I responded. Then I turned to the man screaming on the ground. I waved my hand, casting a healing spell and fixing his feet. "Now you are going to tell me what you are actually doing here."

The man screamed and drew his greatsword. He did not try to stand from his position kneeling on the ground, instead swinging his long blade at my legs. "For the Mistress!" he screamed as the sword came at me. I sighed and lowered Dawnbreaker, edge first. The Magickal weapon caused the simple iron of the warrior's blade to shatter against the superior worksmanship of a god. The Vigilant screamed in rage and quickly turned the jagged remains of his weapon on himself.

"NO!" I screamed, rushing forward to stop him. But it was too late. The remains of his greatsword plunged through his throat, causing a cascading fountain of blood to ooze onto the ground around his twitching body. I lowered my arm, stretched towards him, to my side and trembled in anger.

Serana and I were quiet. "What was that all about?" I finally asked. Serana frowned and didn't respond, instead crouching down towards the man. She reached out with one hand to touch the pool of blood and placed a droplet on her tongue; her face scrunched up in disgust and she spat the blood back onto the ground. By disgust, I don't mean "smelled a rotting corpse" disgust, I mean "expected really good mead and was given moonshine from the Ragged Flagon" disgust.

"This isn't good," she said, standing up and turning worriedly back towards the crypt. She nudged the dead man with her foot. "He was a thrall. They all were."

I growled and Dawnbreaker seemed to seethe with rage in my fist. "So they're slaves..." I snarled, drawing a look of alarm from Serana. "I don't know who is in there, but they are going to pay for treating anyone like this..."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Dead. All of them were dead. Truth be told, it was all rather disappointing. I had been hopeful that I would be given a chance to gauge my power once again upon the weaklings of the Dawnguard when I saw one of their corpses near a Vampire's on the road from Dragon's Bridge. It would seem someone kidnapped the Moth Priest, just as Harkon had ordered. Though the Dawnguard likely exterminated those that did if they had been this close to the fools.

And yet, every corpse I passed was wearing Dawnguard colors. "What could have happened here?" I pondered silently as I stepped over the body of an Orc that had been torn in half, seemingly by some force from within. Another was completely dry, as if exsanguinated. None of Harkon's men had this power, but...

I shuddered as the cold realization hit me. I could only think of one Vampire, save myself, capable of such terrible feats. The Blood Matron herself, it appeared, had found her way onto my path once again. I could not flee, not with this chance to observe her and to steal the Prophet away. Perhaps the Elder Scrolls held some secret to doing away with the woman; if so, I had to find them and I had to end her. She was the greatest threat to my plans...

So, it was incredibly surprising to me that, when I ascended the staircase as silently as my considerable skills could allow me, I was not greeted by the terrifying, god-like force of nature known as the Blood Matron and mother of Vampires. Instead I saw a woman in a cloak, humming manically to herself in high pitched notes as she tossed a skull between her hands. There was a wild, insane jitter to every movement.

I turned my gaze across the entire room, smirking as I realized I was only to be faced by this new player. And even better, the Moth Priest himself was held captive within a huge, swirling cage of Magicka. I was not sure how to free him, but it would be a simple thing to find out once I dealt with... whoever this woman was. I chuckled softly to myself.

Then froze as the woman's voice rang out. "Oh, I was wondering when you'd get here, luv," she said with a laugh, turning towards me with the first smooth motion I had seen. She was a Redguard woman with incredibly attractive features. Her smooth skin was marred by red, crisscrossing burns that crisscrossed her throat. Her manic gaze settled on me as she opened her eyes, twin blood red orbs. She smiled widely, then that quickly turned to a frown. "You aren't who I expected. Hm..."

"And you are not whom I expected," I responded, recognizing that my hopes for a stealthy kill had been dashed. I walked into the firelight and drew my swords, sneering at the human. "What are you doing here?"

The woman sighed. "Well, when I heard that a Moth Priest had been sent here, I _knew_ that he would come for it. Or, at least I thought he would," the woman replied, not even answering my questions. She whined like a child and stomped her foot on the ground. "No, it was only his Dawnguard buddies. The Insects weren't even worth my time." She hugged and crossed her arms over her black robes.

I frowned, disarmed by how... odd this woman seemed. She glanced up at me, bloodthirst in her red eyes. "Your turn..."

I frowned. "I was sent here for the Moth Priest," I responded, not sure what to do with the woman in front of me. There was a dangerous terror in how she moved, unbalanced and energetic like a child, yet with the deadly, fluid grace of a snake. Her fangs flashed menacingly in the fire light. "And to exterminate any Dawnguard I came across."

"Hm... that's not why you were sent here!" the woman replied, giggling. She growled and was suddenly next to me, her hand on my throat. "You're here because you _failed. _A genetic mistake, worse than the Insects themselves."

I gasped in fear. "Thalmor..."

"Yes... now, why do _you_, former Lady, smell like Lucius?"

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I shivered as we entered the final rooms of the crypt. It was freezing, well below any temperature that would be comfortable, even in Skyrim. And, given my prior experiences with crypts in the province, far below what it should be. My breath frosted in the air before me, a cloud of ice. "Luc..." Serana whispered. She pulled closer to me, checking our backs. She was shivering as well, though she did not feel the cold the same as I did. No, she was shivering out of something else entirely, something far more primordial than mere discomfort. Fear.

"I know," I told her as we continued further.

"... and I told you, Arkay says he is very sorry about that!" a high pitched, though intelligent, voice whined from the next room. I raised a single, Daedric-clawed finger to my lips, earning a dry eye roll from Serana. I lowered it and grinned sheepishly – she obviously knew to be quiet. "What was that? Yes, I'm telling her now! He says that he _is_ fulfilling your wish, there was just no way to do it!"

"Enough with the _**lies**_!" a woman screamed in response. Serana gasped in terror as she heard the voice and I turned, surprised. "Ah... it would appear we have visitors. A Vampire and a mortal... though not a Thrall. How interesting. Come in, please."

I furrowed my brow and marched proudly into the room. A beautiful woman, almost my height, stood in the center of the room. She wore a gown of velvet, a bloody red that matched her glowing, evil eyes. Surrounding her were the kneeling forms of almost a half-dozen former Vigilants, all of whom glared at Serana and me with palpable venom. Thralls, forever incapable of free will. Essentially, already dead on the inside, though that made it no less easy. "Interesting... you aren't afraid," the woman said. She glanced past me and smiled. "Though she can't even move."

I turned and felt my eyes widen in surprise. Serana was shivering, clutching at herself. She was hiding behind the edge of the door. "I can't help it," she told me. "I can't go in."

I raised a hand, assuring her it was fine, and turned to the other woman. "What do you want?"

"Me?" she asked. She laughed and gestured at the wooden cage to her right. It was then that I noticed an Imperial man in monk robes sitting and looking rather unamused with the nonsense going on around him. He was in the cage, holding the keys; a glimmer ran across the wood – an enchantment, likely keeping the Vampire and her Thralls out... and the Imperial in. The woman laughed for a moment. "I'm trying to have a conversation with Arkay."

The man in the cage piped up, angry. "A conversation implies that you were listening!" he snapped, drawing an iresome look from the Vampire. He immediately quieted down, trying to hide his terror.

"Hm... it is not often I meet even one who is unfazed by my presence," the Vampire told me, running her eyes up and down my body. It felt like she was stripping me down as she licked her lips.

"Thanks, but, no," I told her. Dawnbreaker hissed at my side... in fear. Worrisome.

"Yes, he's already taken," the priest in the cage said. "What!? By a Vampire!?"

That one surprised me. "So you really _do_ hear Arkay," I mumbled. I turned back to the Vampire woman, who looked down at me with no small amount of annoyance. I glowered at her with as much hate as I could muster – it was a lot. "Let him go. Maybe I'll even kill you quickly."

The woman laughed in derisive amusement, doubling over and holding up a hand as she tried to steady herself. "Oh, you think you can kill me?" she asked, the usual haughtiness of a Vampire in her voice. She sighed as she regained her composure and gestured at my side. "Not even with that, admittedly annoying, toothpick."

I tried not to show my fear as I let my hand drift from Dawnbreaker. For some reason, I couldn't help but believe her. She wasn't even fazed by a weapon designed to exterminate her kind. Dawnbreaker seemed to hiss in relief as I considered not using it. "Who are you?" I asked as I summoned powerful flames to my hands. It felt vain, but I had to do something. _Anything_. If I couldn't kill her, what could?

"Oh, no," the woman said with a grin simultaneously skin crawling and disarming. "The gentleman always introduces himself _first_."

I snarled. "I'm the Dragonborn that's going to kill you," I snapped, unleashing a huge explosion of flame around the woman. The Vigilants in the room screamed as they were reduced to ash; the enchantment on the cage protected Baenius. I continued the burning of the flames until the light began to become unbearable even to me, then let them drift away to nothingness.

"Cute," a woman's voice said, drifting with condescension, respect, and desire out of the fires.

The Vampire woman's dress was singed, burning slightly at the edges. The jewelry that had been built into the hem had melted from the intense heat. Otherwise she – her skin, her hair, most of the dress even – was completely fine. She sashayed slightly over the burning bodies of her former Thralls – Talos guide them – and walked up to me. It was in that moment, as her hand gripped my face and she stared, maliciously entertained, into my eyes, that I knew I was horribly outclassed. "Who are you?" I finally managed to squeak fearfully.

"Don't worry, that almost hurt, darling" the woman whispered, leaning in towards my ear. "But nothing can kill Lamae Bal..."

I screamed in pain as her fangs pierced my neck. My airway became constricted and I felt blood rush down my throat; it was like I was drowning in my own body. "Then I guess..." I grunted as I struggled to concentrate as much Magicka in one hand as I could, "I should try harder."

I unleashed a beam of pure Lightning, blasting a circular hole in the woman's chest. "That won't do anything!" she snapped, pulling away from my throat. Her face was covered in blood. My, now infected, blood.

"Not the endgame," I tried to growl threateningly, though I'm sure it came out much less so than I aimed for. Probably a gurgle. Magicka flashed from my hand again just as I hit the ground. "Serana..." And then I blacked out.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I dodged beneath the Magickal assault of the Redguard, barely holding my own against the monster. I had never fought a warrior that so outclassed me, not even Lucius. He and I were on a level, the same; a battle between my _Jokaar_ and I could go, conceivably, either way. I would win of course, but theoretically. My battle with this... creature. It was not one that I even could dream to win. Her Magickal prowess was beyond my imagination, with blasts of energy that melted through stone in but a few moments. Even still it seemed she was... toying with me.

Her spells were cast with a lazy air. She was putting virtually nothing into this fight, but was still keeping me on the strict defensive. "Honestly, I expected better from one that the Lords considered their best agent," the woman sneered from across the room. I rolled behind the Magickal wall containing the raving Moth Priest – he was begging for his "master" to save him. The woman's spell glanced off of the spinning green wall and she laughed in excitement as a wall of the cavern split open. Sunlight poured in around us. "Ooh, but you're smart. That's good."

"How do you know Lucius?!" I snapped, trying to come up with a plan. I circled the Magickal containment in time with the Redguard, always staying opposite her on the circle's edge.

"Oh, we go way back!" the woman said, laughing maniacally. She stopped suddenly. "I knew him before he tried to mask what he actually is with this new, slave persona. Not Lucius, I knew – in every sense – Ayleid."

My eyes widened. Ayleid, that had been his name in the documents sent by the Aldmeri Council to Elenwen. He had never had a partner, well, except on one mission. More an apprentice, really. But then... "You are Dwemer," I shouted to the woman, earning another bout of insane laughter and a nod.

"Right again!" she said, pointlessly firing another spell at the wall. She giggled like a child as the Magick blew apart another section of the cavern's roof. She sighed. "Oh, you're no fun, and you're not who I came for. Hm... Well, I suppose you aren't worth killing. The Council hasn't sent me for that, yet. Though when I have Ayleid leading me again, then I have no doubts they'll want you."

"You're a Vampire now!" I shouted. "Why serve them?"

"Because I am still an Insect, worm," the woman replied, her voice deadly serious. She laughed manically again after a moment. "Toodloo! I'm sure we'll meet again, Thera!" And she was gone.

I waited, still as a statue, for a long moment. I was terrified to give up the fight, lest she return and end my life. As the minutes dragged on, however, I finally fell to my knees and dropped my swords. That was... I surveyed, blankly, the damage that this woman had caused. Without even trying, her spells had blown apart the walls of the cavern and tons of rock and soil above to cause sunlight to stream in from every angle. I looked at the Magick wall and gasped. She had even broken one of the stones causing the wall to exist. The Magickal barrier was slowly dissipating as the towering rock fell to the ground.

What kind of monster was this Dwemer?

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I awoke, some time later, with an empty cure disease potion by my side. I groaned in pain as I sat up. Pain shot through my throat and I nearly fell again. I let out a shout that only caused more pain. "He's awake!" I heard Serana shout, relief flooding through her voice. I hissed in pain as her arms wrapped around my throat, pressing against the new scars I had received. I felt warm tears streaming down my cheek and I, _painfully_, hugged her back. "I was so worried..."

"Ah, good. It would seem the potion was not too late," Florentius said from above us. He leaned down and examined my eyes while Serana held me tighter. Florentius smiled. "Yes, still human!"

I sighed as Serana let go of me. "Good thing I got into the habit of carrying those potions ever since starting this whole adventure," I croaked, half-smiling.

"Indeed," the priest agreed. He looked up. "Hm? Ah, yes." He looked back down at me. "Arkay says you were very clever indeed. The way you placed fire runes within her chest... well, it was enough to get her to run away at the very least. Arkay says it has been a _very_ long time since anyone – mortal or god – did such a thing."

"Still hard to believe Lamae Bal is still alive," Serana whispered. She looked at me, then glanced away. She looked like she thought she was guilty of some great sin. "I thought for sure someone would have killed her since I've been gone."

"Well, it was thought by many that she was dead," Florentius explained. He sighed. "Arkay says that the Ancient Dawnguard near the end of the Second era and the start of the Third – just before they fell into disgrace from their many wrongs – waged a huge battle with her, an army against a single woman that ended with a mere five survivors. Her body was torn apart and separated across Skyrim to be guarded."

"Then how is she alive?" I asked hoarsely. I pulled my water pouch from my belt and took a long swig – it didn't help.

"Because she couldn't die," Florentius explained hollowly. Fear ran through his eyes. "They tried to burn her pieces with fire, to melt them down in lava, or to cast them away with the most powerful Magicks on Nirn. Nothing did the trick, so they separated the pieces when it became clear she could perhaps return. Some poor fool must have decided to bring the pieces together. Most likely a Vampire who quickly fell prey to her ability to cow any creature into submission to her will."

"Any?" I asked. "I mean she was scary, on a different level than most things I've fought, but..."

"Yes, you do seem to possess a singular, impossible talent to resist her. I was only able to do so because of Arkay's aid, but you did it alone... Even for a Dragonborn that is unheard of," Florentius muttered excitedly.

"Great, as if one psychotic Daughter of Coldharbour wasn't enough," Serana hissed. She kicked the wall, shattering the stone and sending debris flying. She leaned against the wall, facing away from me. I frowned, worried for her.

"Yes, Arkay says he is not as happy with how your... Can you pronounce that again? Joker?" Florentius began to argue with the sky. "Jaka?"

"_Jokaar_," I said, drawing a nod from Florentius. I smiled, some hope on the horizon. "So, the gods prefer me?"

"Well... Arkay won't vouch for the rest, but he tends not to like Vampires," Baenius replied with a shrug. I laughed dryly. Florentius laughed and leaned towards me. Whispering, he gave a caveat. "Though he says you should hold onto that one. If you know what I mean."

Serana's ears blushed, turning a shade of red I thought only fire Magick could get. "Yeah. She's a keeper," I muttered with a smile.


	39. Seeking Disclosure:Legion Slayers

**AN: Well, here comes the main reason that Skingrad is so special. It will end with no survivors, but imagine someone finding what Ayleid left behind; it's not the end of the events there, though. There will be one more flashback to Skingrad itself, after this chapter's. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The entire room was silent, deadly fear running in an undercurrent between the thoughts of everyone present. Besides those at the central table, the room was empty; Isran did not want panic about what we were talking about to spread. Besides Serana and I, the only ones in the room were Isran, Florentius, Gunmar, and Sorine. The best part was, no one was shooting angry glares at Serana, the worst part was that we were all simmering in our communal misery. "You're... sure about this?" Isran asked, fear in his voice for the first time. Real fear that I had only ever seen on the faces of, well children whose parents had just been murdered in front of them. My own face, for one.

Florentius nodded, and Isran slammed his fist down on the table. "Damn it!" the leader of the Dawnguard screamed. The entire room could do nothing but agree in silence. "Oblivion!"

Sorine piped up next. "This is... from the view of scientific and Magickal study, this information proposes countless questions and a few... unsavory answers," Sorine said hollowly. "Florentius says the Ancient Dawnguard did her in with an entire army? Then her power must be what corrupted them, drew them into the darkness."

"Are you implying the same could happen with us?" Gunmar snapped. He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Sadly, yes," Sorine continued, her voice heavy. "But that doesn't even scratch the surface. She was able to enthrall an entire contingent of Vigilants over the course of mere minutes without even feeding on them once. There is obviously some ability she has to control the minds of those around her."

"As Arkay said," Florentius interjected, his voice squeaking worriedly, "she is Molag Bal's firstborn. She did not use some ability to control them, Domination merely comes naturally to her. Serana herself can testify to such."

The Vampire woman frowned, her brow furrowing, and she stared at the ground. She was still disappointed – no, enraged with herself for being unable to help me against Lamae in Ruunvald. "Yes. I found myself sapped of any ability to move, to even think. I couldn't look at her without -" Serana's voice caught and her eyes jumped between me and the ground again. Her fangs flashed at the stone and she looked like she was about to fall to her knees. She stayed strong, though. "It was like I screamed at my limbs to move, I demanded they respond. But they froze." She snarled bitterly and I frowned, worried about Serana.

"It wasn't your fault," I said, trying to comfort her. She looked up at me, eyes narrowed. I sighed and backed away – she obviously didn't want to be comforted at that moment. Instead, I turned to the rest of the room. "Then why didn't I? Or you, for that matter, Florentius?"

"Oh, well, for me it is Arkay," the prophet said excitably. "He protects me, especially from control of those that would do evil. For you... I am unsure."

I shook my head, trying to think of what it could be. "She said I'm not the only one she's seen, either," I said. I looked up, a ghost of hope in my eyes. "I know we don't have any information on who it could be, but we should at least try to make it a priority to find that person."

"Yes," Isran agreed gruffly. "Maybe then we can figure out how we can all resist her, just like the Dawnguard did all those centuries ago." He placed his fist on the table and sighed, tired and weary. Then he looked back up at all of us, eyes ablaze again. "This doesn't mean we can stop what we're doing. Harkon's men were able to capture a Moth Priest who was in Skyrim. I sent some men to secure him, but they never reported back; they must be dead. Luc, Serana – see if you can find any other Elder Scrolls in the country. Your father, Vampire, is obviously after some sort of prophecy, and they sometimes need multiple Scrolls. Try to hunt down any others that might be in Skryim. Sorine, get me as much information on the last battle with Lamae Bal as you can. Gunmar, the Morthal guards are heading back soon. Go with them to talk with Jarl Ravencrone about this, she might know something or be able to help us with soldiers when the time comes. Florentius... just do what I brought you here to do."

"Talk to Arkay?" the priest responded dryly.

"If that's what you want to call it," the older man replied with a disbelieving sigh. He glanced around the room. "Well? Waiting won't make it happen any faster!"

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

This constant defeat was... infuriating. It was all I could do to _not_ brutally murder Harkon right then and there. He would be useful in helping me exterminate Lamae and the new Thalmor Assassin that was present in Skyrim, though it would have been incredibly fulfilling to just... lightly skewer him and leave him to roast, still alive, over an open flame. But I resisted the _powerful_ urge.

Harkon had responded with interested surprise upon hearing my description of the woman. "Ah, she lives?" he had asked while the Moth Priest was put through the process of Thralldom before we used him. "She was the one I told you about, the one who approached me with the offer to kill Lucius. I thought she was dead."

"No. Instead she attacked me for no reason," I had snapped, drawing a snarl from Harkon. I had smiled meekly and apologetically, playing my part. "She is no ally, not now."

"Yes, I am inclined to agree," Harkon had replied, still glaring down at me.

I was brought back to the present by the noise of the Moth Priest, Destivius or something inane and human like that, beginning his reading of the Elder Scroll Harkon had in his possession.

The human shuddered as the immense, divine forces within the Scroll began to flow through his body like a river through a small pipe. His back arched to a painful looking angle and he took a deep, gasping breath for air. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was dying. Being a Moth Priest, however, he must have been through this many times before.

_"I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow. I know this weapon! It is Auriel's Bow! Now a voice whispers, saying "Among the night's children, a dread lord will rise". In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one._

_The voice fades and the words begin to shimmer and distort. But wait, there is more here. The secret of the bow's power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls. Yes, I see them now... One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, and the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood._

_My vision darkens, and I see no more. To know the complete prophecy, we must have the other two scrolls."_

And, like that, the vision was done. The Scroll and the Man holding it collapsed to the ground, a froth forming at the Moth Priest's mouth. He was in pain, dying perhaps? "Damn," Harkon growled beside me. The Vampire King sighed and pulled me aside, snarling at our luck. "We need more Elder Scrolls, it appears. I believe that the College of Winterhold has one – see if it is one that we need."

I nodded. It was lucky that I had sold the powerful item to the College, and now could take it back by merely enthralling a simple minded Orc. "I'll be back soon."

_**Jul**_

**Ayleid**

I walked towards the beckoning Insect army, a lone silhouette against the blazing flames I had set in Skingrad while approaching. With a flick of either wrist, I caused my cloak to billow outward, casting a long, imposing shadow that would cast even more unease into the hearts of the Men who would soon die by my hand. I, unflinchingly, continued walking even as arrows and spells flew towards me through the air. Most missed me by a great distance, and the ones that came close were done away with by a wall of flames erupting from the ground. Best to enforce the mystery of my image.

"Attack, men!" the general screamed. I scoffed to myself when I recognized the voice – Justianus Quintius, author of the definitive Imperial history on the Great War and a Man enshrined in the Imperial City as a hero of Men. In other words, a false idol waiting to be cast down.

As the Imperial Legionnaires ran towards me, jumping through the flames I understood just how weak they were. Or perhaps, how strong I had become. The flesh of the first that came through the flames was melted off by a blast of Lightning, his sword arcing through the air and into my outstretched hand. His bones clattered against the ground on the other side of the flame wall, charred. His fellow drones gasped in fear and I _heard_ them tense and consider fleeing for a moment. But the battle was already begun.

I jumped through the flames, my hood up and my cloak flying out around me like an endless abyss of shadows. Frost froze solid the bodies and blood of a wall of soldiers, only to be shattered as I grabbed another and tossed his form into his onetime allies. The frost flew around the man's body until I Magickally forced the shards into his body. I was already running off to fight the next group as his blood exploded from his corpse to the sound of his screams.

As I decapitated the next soldier and burned out the eyes of another with my off hand, I glanced into the sky to see flames. I ran towards the source, narrowly escaping the blast radius of a catapulted, rune-encrusted boulder. I laughed at the assortment of trebuchet and catapults that I began to approach, slashing through the bodies of soldiers or boiling their blood within their bodies while I ran. Everything the Empire used was outdated, weak; they had lost their strength upon their defeat, and the eruption of the Civil War in the far north seemed to sap their strength and focus even further. The Lords would be beyond happy to know that the warriors of their military were able to be so soundly defeated by a single, mere slave such as I.

I jumped over the wild swing of an Orc's hammer, nicking the twisted being's neck tendon with my blade as I flipped over him. He screamed in pain, his head flopping uselessly to the side. A mere moment later, the creature's skull was on the ground and I was continuing towards the artillery.

I glanced up with a cruel smile at the flaming stones raining through the sky, none aimed towards the ever moving center of the carnage. With a stream of Magicka, I was able to grab the items and redirect them. The stones began to rain down towards their sources, the massive explosions that resulted sending hundreds of Legionnaire bodies flying in the form of ash and molten metal. "Gods above, how many are there!?" a voice screamed from the battlefield above the dying screams of Legionnaires I had allowed to die slowly. "_What_ are they!?"

I laughed and bisected the Insect who had asked the question – the General himself, it appeared. I dropped my current weapon and plucked his sword from his body, a blade engraved especially for him upon his ascendance to the rank of General; the Lords would want proof of his death and the blow it would deal to the Empire. I turned as I heard boots clattering towards me, a contingent of soldiers who rushed to defend their dead leader. I grabbed his body with my free hand and tossed the jagged, organ-trailing torso at the men. They screamed in fear and disgust as their leader's corpse slammed into their bodies, sending a chill down my spine.

With the General dead, it seemed that the men themselves were beginning to flee. Unfortunately for them, I could have no witnesses. I sheathed the General's blade at my hip and raised both hands before me. "Die, insects," I whispered. A brilliant beam of electric blue light erupted into being before me, reducing the fleeing horde of Insects into ash, the Lightning chaining from body to body to disrupt their movements so they could be subjected to the same death as their fellows as I turned my gaze on them. The light continued unabated for a few minutes as I made sure to exterminate all of the soldiers, the fools. When all was said and done, there was no life nor weaponry left on the field of battle save myself.

"If that is all the strength their armies can muster," I sneered as the ash began to rain down around me, a gray snowfall, "the Empire is surely doomed."

_**Sosnaak**_

**Lamae Beolfag**

Molag Bal's Eve, mother of all his creations on Nirn, listened to the account given her by her first child in more than a thousand years. She was bathing in blood, taking in the energy of the fluid as she did, warming the cold circle where her chest had been torn open a few days earlier.

The one-time Redguard was examining the Vampire with cautious eyes as she finished, wondering why this creature would be so interested with Lucius. "Yes... this is the one that I met," Lamae finally whispered. She turned her gaze towards the Thralls that stood below. They were preparing to go out into the world, to steal more mortals for her plans of domination – she would decide if they were worthy of her power or her hunger. "He is like you."

The Redguard woman narrowed her eyes and clutched at the cloak on her shoulders possessively. "Indeed. He –"

"Made you, much as I did," the Vampire finished. Lamae frowned and ran her fingers across the now smooth skin of her chest. The mortal was more than capable in combat and in Magick; planting Flame Runes within her body was a stroke of insane genius. The kind that would be useful. Lamae glanced at Dwemer. But the boy was like her, strong willed and clever. She was still bound to her mortal masters through her insane worship of them, and Lucius would likely be bound to his own desires much as she was. A dangerous creature, but useful. "I fed from him, yet I do not feel he is one of us. Of course, the woman he was with must have cured him before my blood could take hold."

"Woman?" Dwemer asked, her eyes shifting to a bloody red. Lamae smiled inwardly. This was the best way to control the Redguard, it appeared; her desire – for even Lamae could see this fixation was not 'love', but obsession at its finest, most deep levels – was like a bit and reins for the slave. But, still, that was a problem for a later time.

"Indeed. A Vampire with whom he seemed very close," Lamae said, not even bothering to hide the grin creeping across her face at the rage in her child's eyes. "A Daughter of Coldharbour, it seems, has claimed him as her own. We are incredibly territorial with our Thralls, after all."

"Then I bathe in her blood before I return him to the Lords," the Redguard hissed. She took a breath and calmed herself. "I also found another – a Vampire who smells like him."

Lamae turned, interested. "Yes, when I tasted his blood it was not dissimilar to that of a certain Vampire. Yes... an Elf. Dragonborn. Yes. Damn – I knew that they tasted familiar," Lamae said to herself with a frown. A Dragonborn arising during her attempt to reign once again – Arkay and his ilk were trying to stop her once more with their knight in Tamriel, though now with two? Domination was nothing without a challenge, she supposed.

"Bring me a Thrall," the Vampire Queen demanded, her voice devoid of even her rage. "I have much to consider, and I would rather not do so with burning thirst."


	40. Seeking Disclosure:Beyond Death

**AN: Hey everyone, sorry it's been so long. Thanksgiving, Finals. Crazy times. Anyways, I hope you all had good times lately. Anyways, hope you guys like this. Please leave reviews so I can tell if I'm going down the right track, thanks.**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I clenched and unlenched my fist, enjoying the feel of my complete soul back in my body. The empty, burning purple of the Soul Cairn lit up above me like a dead flame. Serana and I stood before a huge castle, an angry, ancient, starving, cruel Vampire glared at me from across an invisible barrier in a castle at the heart of the realm of Oblivion. I laughed nervously and looked over at the stunned Serana. "So... why is it that whenever I meet a woman's parents they always hate me?" I asked, half-joking. It wasn't getting off to a great start with Valerica – the woman seemed to hate me just by virtue of me being there. Her starving, angry eyes and clear 'Vampires are Superior' attitude wasn't helping. How was it that _this_ woman, so much like her husband and so _unlike_ her daughter, wasn't working with Harkon?

"And who is this..." the woman struggled for words, obviously thinking 'fool' or 'mongrel mortal' was a tad harsh for someone that her daughter had lowered herself to working with. "Mongrel mortal?" Ouch. Or not.

"I'm – wow, it's rare to have to introduce myself," I said with a sheepish grin. I pulled one clawed hand up and pulled my hood down, smiling nonthreateningly. "I'm... a Dragonborn and a member of the Dawnguard."

At that, Valerica's eyes widened with rage. "You would dare travel with such a man!?" she snapped at her daughter. Valerica dashed towards me, only to slam into the invisible barrier that was keeping her locked within her castle. She bared her fangs and hissed at me, her eyes turning an even darker shade of red. "He would kill us all for nothing."

My face soured, but I held my tongue. Valerica seemed important to Serana, and thus I didn't want to offend the women with a snappy remark. Instead I growled and contented myself with the truth. "I only want to keep her safe," I snapped.

"Oh, yes, coming from one who would murder my king for trade, or perhaps sport, my belief that your intentions are noble is hardly sure. Serana has sacrificed everything to prevent Harkon from completing the Prophecy, and I will not have all that work undone by some yokel mortal!"

"I'm here to stop Harkon!" I growled. "Give me the Elder Scroll and I'll leave."

Valerica laughed, a dry and condescending noise. I glanced at Serana, who shrugged and shook her head. "You really believe I'd have the audacity and selfishness to place my own _daughter_ in that tomb for the protection of an Elder Scroll alone? Hah! The Scrolls are merely a means to an end. The key to the Tyranny of the Sun is Serana herself!"

"The... what?" Serana asked. "The Tyranny of the Sun?"

Valerica sighed and glanced at her daughter. "When we fled, I took two elder Scrolls. The one Serana had speaks of Auriel's ancient weapon. The Light, Auriel's Bow. The one that I have with me declares – and this is dumbed down for your simple human mind to understand – that the 'Blood of Coldharbour's Daughter will blind the eye of the Dragon."

I palled and looked at Serana. "He's going to try and kill you."

"Dammit," Serana hissed. "Not just me. He has the Elf and then Lamae Bal – "

"What?" Valerica asked, her voice hollow. She snarled and slammed her fist into the barrier, screaming in rage. "Lamae Bal has awoken again?" she asked, her voice hollow. She breathed out, terrified. "I... Fine, you say you want to help? These Scrolls. There are three that must be read together. Dragon. Blood. Sun. Together they contain the information on how to find the Bow and use it to destroy the Sun's light forever... as my husband desires."

"So... keeping it with you is the safest place?" Serana said, placing her hand across from her mother's on the invisible barrier.

Valerica was silent for a while. Then she looked up at me. "Can I trust you, mortal?" she finally asked, pleading in her gaze.

I glanced at the ground, then back up at the woman. "I couldn't hurt Serana if I tried. I love her," I said, drawing a surprised gasp from both women. I stared into Valerica's eyes.

"You do," she muttered. She coughed once and straightened up, her haughty demeanor back. "Unfortunately for me, you two _need_ the Scroll. Not only do the Scrolls tell of how to destroy the sun, they tell of the opposite as well. Lamae Bal would cast Oblivion, Aetherius, and Nirn into chaos for her revenge on Molag Bal. The Scrolls contain many truths, and often opposite ones. The Tyranny of the Sun is diametrically opposite to the Majesty of the Daughter. The Scrolls, if you gather all three and read them, could have a means of _actually_ killing Lamae Bal. The only way."

I was silent, stunned. "So there is a way?" Serana asked, her voice filled with a shadow of hope. "But she's..."

"You've met her? Yes, terrifying. Everything intelligent in your mind is shut off, frozen. You wish to run, or bow, or die."

"Not me," I piped up, drawing an interested look from Valerica. "If I get the tools, I can kill her."

Valerica considered it for a moment, biting her lip. Finally: "There are four guardsmen who power this wall. Kill them and return here. But beware the dragon Durnehviir – my jailer hunts all on this plane, and even Dragonborn may not be able to defeat a dragon with an already enslaved soul."

_**Dovah**_

**Durnehviir**

The dragon shrieked, summoning the blackened souls of the Bonemen, Mistmen, and Wrathmen from the grave-yard like arena of the castle. Durnehviir had been alerted to the existence of intruders in the Soul Cairn almost immediately after they had entered the Plane of Oblivion, though he had not paid them any attention until the death of the first Keeper. Few were the Mundane – be they Mortal or otherwise – who could face the might of the strongest Undead in the Cairn. Fewer still who could topple all their number. That was the moment that he knew one of his own kind had entered the Soul Cairn. One of the _Jokaar_.

And here he was, the Mortal who had taken the life of the King of Dragons. A feat beyond what he could have guessed any Dragonborn, even that great Emperor of Old, would have been capable of. The Undead fell before the Dragonborn and his Dawnbreaker, slaying them in scores as the Magick in the weapon was unleashed. It was a sight to behold, really, the Fury of one chosen by his father, by Akatosh himself to stand against his first, greatest children.

He was even capable enough, it seemed, to destroy Durnehviir himself. It had come as quite the surprise when his his blood suddenly began to turn to ash in his already decrepit body. His skin slowly melting from the haggard remains of his bones and the Magick in his gut dissipating into nothingness. It probably was what the other Dov would perceive as the pain of death. And yet this was not death. Durnehviir, even as he died, could feel his bones and skin reforming across the roads of the Plane. That was an odd sensation, feeling half-dead flesh half-stitching itself back together in the half-living facsimile of existence to which Durnehviir had accustomed himself over the past millennia.

And yet he felt more alive than he had since before his own birth. A worthy adversary – a Dov. The soul of a Dragon and the heart of a Man – a good one, if his conversations with the Vampire woman and her daughter were to be believed. Yes, he would be an excellent ally to have.

"Greetings, _Qahnaarin_," Durnehviir muttered as he landed outside the castle. The Dragonborn's hand flew to his blade, but the weapon did not sing free. "Ah, peace, brother. I do not wish to fight he who slayed my eldest brother. Yes, news of his defeat can traverse to even here, _Qahnaarin_."

The Dragonborn let his hand drift slowly away from his weapon. "Hello. I am Lucius. What do you want?"

"Ah, Lucius Atmoran. Indeed. I believe there is a way we can aid each other," the dragon replied, smiling inwardly – smiling outwardly tended to frighten people as he was, first off, a dragon and, secondly, perpetually melting. "I wish to see the skies of home once more. Breath the air _Vus_ for a moment more."

"So leave," the Vampire woman beside him suggested. She had an Elder Scroll hanging over her shoulder.

"Alas, _Sosnaak_, I cannot," the dragon replied, genuine sadness in his voice. "I am as much a prisoner here as your mother. I can no longer live on _Vus_, how connected I have become to this... _ausul_. This hell. Call me, _Dovahkiin_, and you will have my fangs at your side."

Lucius smiled sadly. "You're a slave here, eh?" he asked. After a momentary pause, the human nodded. "_Zu'u alun lost weyt fah fron zii_. It would be my honor, _Gein Zuwuth_."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Harkon met me outside of his large room in the castle, hand out and awaiting the Elder Scroll. As I approached, however, his smile began to sour into an intense scowl. "The Scroll has been moved," I told him as I neared. His eyebrow raised in anticipation of the answer. "And as much as I would love to attack the Dawnguard head on, right now, there are too many threats at hand a the moment."

"Well, I suppose the universe is against us at the moment, then," Harkon snarled. "Your Moth Priest has gone blind."

I laughed dryly. Of course he had – we now had no Scrolls and no way to read them. Harkon motioned with his hand and the milky white gaze of Dexion was soon linked with mine. "I am sorry, madam," he said, truly saddened. The Thrall wished only to do my bidding, and now he was useless.

"Well, I suppose we should kill him," Harkon said, beginning to draw his blade.

"Wait!" the Moth Priest said, laughing nervously. He raised his hands towards the Vampire King. "I am not of of no use, Madam. I know of a way that you can read the Scrolls."

"Well, then, you should speak before we kill you," I suggested with a growl.

The Priest sighed happily. "Of course, Madam," he said with a bow. "There is an ancient glade in Skyrim. A place where the Magicks that we priests use to read the Scrolls was originally learned by Man. Reading an Elder Scroll without both training and preparation is incredibly dangerous, though the gods sometimes consent for others to use them."

"Go on," Harkon said, echoing my own thoughts.

"Of course, Master," the Priest said. "I was about to."

I smiled. He may have been a moronic human, but he was delightfully snarky to Harkon. "Please do, then," I growled.

"The Glade is the place where the Ancestor Moths for whom my order is named live. If you can attract enough of the insects, their Magick may allow you to read the Scrolls and hear the prophecies within the Scrolls," Evicus stated.

"May?" I asked.

"Well, that or you'll die. The gods are unforgiving when you try to reach above your station," the Priest muttered.

I shook my head and laughed. "Of course they are. I would expect nothing less," I said sardonically. "Though you are a lowly human – I'd expect the gods to declare you and your kind unworthy."

"Right you are, Madam," the Priest said with a flourish and bow.

I smiled. "Well, this presents a very useful tactic for us, Lord Harkon," I suggested, giddy with anticipation. "If the Dawnguard – specifically that fool Lucius – have one Elder Scroll, I would not be surprised if he had more. Perhaps something even better."

"Ah, I enjoy how you think, Thera," Harkon said. It made my skin crawl with disgust when one as lowly as him said my name. "We trade the useless Priest for the Scrolls. Even if the Dawnguard do not wish to go through with the trade, Lucius is _just_ weak enough that he would go against their wishes to save Evicus. A clever idea."

"And we can kill him with an ambush at the Glade – killing, to say, two birds with one stone. Three even, if we could reclaim your daughter," I said, grinning. "And then the Dawnguard would be weak – weak enough to exterminate perhaps."

Harkon smiled, his fangs gleaming in the dull fire light. "I'll send a messenger straightaway." He turned away. "Good work."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stood with Isran, Florentius, and Serana outside Fort Dawnguard, awaiting the Nord the scouts said was wandering our way. My blade was drawn. I smiled as I noticed it no longer sang for Serana's blood, quenched as it was on the lives – un-lives of the many Vampires and other undead that I had gone through the process of ending recently.

"Hold, Stranger!" Isran shouted. With the growth of both the Dawnguard and our Vampiric enemies, we could be less trusting than usual. Anyone could be a Thrall or a Vampire sent to kill us. "State your business!"

The Nord man smiled manically. "You have been summoned," he said with a grin. I grew uneasy and looked over at Serana. She nodded. Thrall. "For a trade."

"Whatever it is, _Thrall_, we don't want it," Serana shouted.

Isran raised his hand. "Tell us," he growled simply.

The Thrall smiled. "You have the Scrolls. We have the Priest. You will be at the Glade in the Jerall Mountains in three days time. You know the trade." With that, he drew his blade and turned it around. I rushed forward, trying to stop him, but was only gifted with a huge splash of blood across my face for my troubles.

"No!" I shouted. I slammed my foot into the rocky outcropping and screamed in pain as my toe snapped. A moment of healing Magick later and it was fixed. I looked up at Isran. I couldn't let anyone die if I could save them.

"Florentius?"

"He's blind. And we would have no Scrolls if we traded," Florentius said. "Though he is also still a Moth Priest, and I am confident in Lucius' abilities to reclaim the Scrolls after the trade."

"No. He's a Thrall if they have him. Doubly useless, a blind slave. No deal," the man said.

"They'll kill him!" I snapped up at the man. He turned angrily back to me. "We have to save him! The – The Scrolls are useless without him anyways!"

"Their use, right now, is in not being in the Vampires' hands. Lucius, our job is protecting Mortals from Vampires, not -"

"He is a mortal," I growled. There was a long pause as Isran stared me down.

"And saving him could end in the deaths of thousands more. I won't risk this," Isran explained. I simmered, glaring up at him. Serana caught my eye and nodded. Isran be damned, we'd save that Moth Priest and bring the Scrolls back doing it.

"Isran," Florentius muttered.

"This is my last say," the man snapped, silencing all opposition as he walked up to the castle. Florentius looked down to me, cautioning against what Serana and I were going to do. Arkay had already told him? If only the gods were so open with me.

Of course, Florentius still looked like he honestly hoped I would go through with the trade. "Serana," I stated simply. She nodded and went off to collect the Scrolls. A few of the guards would have killer headaches for the next few days and would likely not be happy to see either Serana or me for some time, but they'd be alive. And so would the Moth Priest. I looked up at the sky. "We're on our way."


	41. Unseen Visions:How to Kill a Monster

**AN: Sorry this took so long but, hey, it's Christmas. Speaking of: Merry Christmas! I hope everyone is having a good end of the year!**

**On the Story side of things, I really hope everyone enjoys this chapter. I'd say it's the end of the first half of the Dawnguard chapters and the start of the second half. Things should pick up from here. Lucius' Flashbacks end in this chapter, though I technically have one more planned. **

**Enjoy!**

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I had arrived a few hours early for the meeting at the Glade, completely sure that that my adversary would make his way there. True, he would likely be prepared for an ambush meant to end his life and return the Vampire princess to the clutches of her moronic and unambitious father. Well, I hope that I'll never be seen as one to disappoint. I had brought a small contingent of Vampires from the Castle Volkihar, each ready, willing, Oblivion they were even giddy to tear into the Dragonborn Vampire Hunter who had claimed the unlives of so many of their peers.

Dexion Evicus fidgeted next to me, his blind eyes dashing around in panic as I placed the black strap over his eyes to hide them. "Do not hand me over, my Lady," he begged again, fingers clasped before him. He was pleading like the weak, powerless slave he was. The fool didn't know this was a trap – can't trust a slave to make a trick work. "Oh, please do not send me away from your radiance!"

"Do not question me, Worm!" I snapped at the mindless slave. "This is what will aid me most. Is that not what you want?"

Dexion gasped. "No, my Lady! Please, I do wish to aid you and only aid you! That is my only desire, Lady!" he whispered tearfully. "I... please, Lady Thera, allow me to aid you however I am able."

"Be quiet then," I hissed at the fool. I motioned for him to move towards the central tree of the cavern so as to not hear us. I turned to the group of Vampires assembled and smiled cruelly. This was my moment, finally, to destroy that thorn in my side. "Now, this is not some mortal who you will be able to enthrall. He is a warrior capable of standing on equal footing with myself or Harkon. He is the greatest Mage in perhaps all of the human Provinces, a master swordsman, and an incredibly proficient user of the _Thu'um_. Some of you will die. If you survive, don't expect to do so in pristine condition. When the trade is made and he makes he turns... attack. If Lord Harkon's daughter is present, ensure her survival, though if she resists do as you must to secure her. Hide throughout the cave and await the destruction of one of our greatest enemies."

The other Vampires disliked being ordered around, but nodded and moved away to do my bidding. I smiled and placed my wrist on my sword happily. It was all coming up in my favor – I would soon have the Scrolls, Lucius' head in my hand, and the stolen power of a god. After that, my Empire would quickly rise on the back of my incredible power. The world, as it should be, at the feet of an immortal elf.

"We're here, Bitch," an angry voice snarled as he walked down the stairs. I smiled happily as the voice of my soon to be victim reached my ears. "Let's get this over with."

I laughed and turned to the fool. Lucius was wearing a complete set of Daedric armor, its red glowing in the dull light of the cavern. A veritable sun sat at his hip, hissing angrily, and over one shoulder sat an Elder Scroll. He was staring at me with venom in his eyes like the fires of the Sun. To my complete and utter lack of surprise, Serana was with him with almost as much spite flying at me from her eyes. Somewhat surprisingly, she _also_ had an Elder Scroll strapped across her back. "Been a while, hasn't it, Lucius?" I asked with a toothy grin.

"Not long enough," he growled in response between snarling teeth. His hand drifted towards the weapon on his hip.

"Ah ah ah!" I said with a smile, pulling out one of my swords and holding it to my Thrall's throat. "Don't make another move, or your precious Moth Priest finds himself in less than desirable condition."

"We know he's blind, Thalmor," Serana said angrily. I glanced over at her, a Vampire completely loyal to a Vampire Hunter. "Hand him over and you can have the Scrolls."

"Ah, of course. The deal. Now, you don't take me for a fool, do you? There was no chance of you following through on a peaceful exchange," I castigated, waving my finger like a disappointed parent at the slave. "Now be a good slave and do as I say." I smiled waiting for my words to goad him into attacking first, only to be... surprised by my backup.

Lucius fumed, glaring at me with palpable venom coming from his eyes. I saw his hand inch towards his blade again, but he sighed and let his hands fall. "There would be no point in attacking you here. You brought backup. They would all die, sure. You probably, too. But I'm not risking the Moth Priest's life just to get even with you, though Talos knows I'd be in rights to seek vengeance for all the people you've killed. Lydia. Paarthurnax. Emperor Titus II."

"Yes, yes. And Markarth. And that werewolf. People die, get over it and hand over the Scrolls," I snapped, my blade getting ever closer to Evicus' neck.

"Werewolf..?" Lucius whispered. His eyes widened in shock, which slowly turned to rage. "You _BITCH!_" He rushed forward, blade swinging faster than I thought it could. I raised my sword up and deflected the attack, the movement accidentally shoving the Moth Priest out of the way of our battle. "Kodlak was a good man! Honorable!"

I laughed, drawing my second blade to deflect the incoming dagger of Serana. Lucius, instead, moved between us and shot a glare back at her. "This is my fight only," he whispered, quiet rage in his voice. The woman's eyes widened and she looked ready to protest, but Lucius ignored her and pulled an aetherial blade from the air, slashing the glowing, burning Daedric weapon down at my head to be deflected by my second blade.

"Good man? Exactly!" I hissed, ecstatic that the fight had begun. And yet... something was bothering me. "A man is merely a man, Slave!"

"We are not your _slaves_! Your playthings!" Lucius screamed in response, forcing our locked blades apart to deliver a sharp kick to my midsection. I stumbled backwards, but quickly regained my footing to deflect his wild, increasingly strong blows. I elbowed him in the face as he missed me again, sending him spinning. The second sword disappeared, replaced with a fountain of golden energy running across his skin. "You'll pay for this, you whore!"

"Oh, you always talk so sweet to women, don't you... Ayleid?" I said with a cruel grin.

"Oh, yes you do, Luv," a voice said from above, immediately causing Lucius to freeze mid blow and jump away from me. I couldn't move either, frozen as I remembered the power that accompanied that voice.

"Dwemer," Lucius hissed, eyes wide in fear. I turned around, glaring at the woman, who smiled down at us. Her eyes were bright red and her fangs were visible in her twisted smile. Her hands were behind her back. Lucius' voice was directed to me: "You've allied yourself with her?"

"She is not one of ours, fool!" I hissed back at him before glaring back up at her. Then I remembered – where was my backup? I looked around worriedly, only to be put at ease as a contingent of Vampires appeared around the room.

"Neither are they," the Redguard said with a smile. She pulled one of her hands from behind her back and tossed a familiar, Dunmer skull to my feet. "These are Lamae Bal's warriors."

Lucius' eyes widened. "You were turned by that monster?" he breathed fearfully. I looked over my shoulder at him. Serana stood beside him, cringing worriedly. Lucius' own face was, a first, plastered with fear.

"You've become acquainted with the She-Devil as well, then?" I asked, frowning. Lucius' gaze drifted down to me and he nodded, his thoughts no longer focused on his hatred for me. I shook my head and looked back up at Dwemer. "What do you want?"

"Me," Lucius growled. I heard his sword hiss hungrily as he twirled it. "Though, if you gave into Lamae Bal you must want something more."

She laughed excitedly. "No! That's the glorious part. For in aiding Lamae Bal, I will be aiding the Lords. She wants to aid them – she wants _you_."

I laughed derisively at that, drawing a disgusted, irksome look from the Vampire above. "She only has loyalty to herself, Bitch," I said between shudders of laughter.

Dwemer growled angrily, hating the idea that she was being played. She stomped her foot on the ground like and angry child and screamed in frustration. Then she took a deep breath and smiled callously. "She said there was no use for anyone or anything else here, however. So we get to have our way with the other three of you," the Redguard spat venomously. At that my blades rose before me, and I heard similar from Lucius, his little girlfriend, and my Thrall.

"Well... truce?" Lucius asked.

"If we must," I replied coolly.

Then Oblivion broke loose.

_**Jul**_

**Ayleid**

I strolled triumphantly into the throne room of Skingrad, covered in the drying blood of the insect army. My victory had been resounding, an accomplishment with which even the weakest Lords would be impressed. I had, in a single night, changed the political landscape of Tamriel for decades to come. No, not I – a sword does not kill, the knight does. I was merely the tool through which the Aldmeri Dominion would claim its final victory over the Insects.

I smiled as I saw the pools of blood collecting on the floor of the throne room. Tanyi- ah, with her recent change she was truly Dwemer now. _Dwemer_ stood in the center, no blood on her. Instead, the corpses were strewn in a circle around two humans violently stabbing at each other with wood. Dwemer smiled as I neared. "Luv! Did I do well?" she asked, firing off a bolt of Lightning at the two fighters, killing them both.

I smiled approvingly. "I could not have done better myself," I replied with a grin. I pulled her close to me and brought her lips to mine. She pulled wildly at me, bringing us closer together. "I –" I frowned as I heard a rustle and splash behind me. I pushed Dwemer away and turned.

A child, a _human _child, no older than ten was staring at me. He held a sharp stick in his hand, angled at my chest. I began to summon a spark of flame to my hand but was stopped as I studied him further. Why? Why did this human, this cur with his messy mop of black hair, bright green eyes, and bloody face make me pause? What was it about him that made every bone in my body freeze.

Then it hit me. I saw another child, a different child, standing with a steel dagger in his grubby hands. The weapon was pointed at the soldiers who had murdered his own parents, good people. Good human people. That same burning fire in the eyes – vengeance, rage, love, loss. The same white knuckled grip on the weapon. The same trembling but sure legs. The same child.

I let my hand fall to my side. I breathed in to speak, but my words caught in my throat. I crouched to look into the child's eyes. "Who..?" Then there was a sharp pain in my chest. My heart felt like it was being torn in two, physically not emotionally. My vision darkened to red and tunneled around the child's angry face and outstretched arms. He had... stabbed me? My body tumbled backwards and my ears began to ring with the noise of a massive bell. What was happening to me? I saw a black boot rush past me and a flash of blue. Then... I saw nothing.

Just as the Count had said, I had died.

For countless eons I was adrift, cast into nothingness. Sithis. I could only feel pain, rage, and sorrow. I saw faces, familiar for a moment, that immediately disappeared. My skin felt like it was being burnt and my lungs felt like they were filling with water at the same time. Nails dug into my skin at every pore even while my innards threatened to explode outward.

It was only five minutes.

In the farthest distance there was a light. Even from afar I could see the shape of a mortal at the center. No, a god. The god came close and... then – Then I...

I awoke with a huge gasp, my back arching. My body was spasming as my Soul returned to its flesh, restarting the heart and brain and blood that had begun to die. The world was black to my blind eyes, but those too began to return. The world was red. Bloody. The smell was the same. I could hear the noise of something being stabbed over and over accompanied by manic laughter. My throat burned and my skin was ablaze. My body screamed for the death it had just endured, wanting nothing more than to return to where it belonged. But no, my Soul was back. I was... back? Yes...

"Ayleid! Ayleid... you're alive!" Tanyin – I... Dwemer. Dwemer shouted. She rushed towards me, dropping the weapon she had been holding and rushing over to me. She pulled up to a sitting position and stared into my eyes. I shook my head slowly and gazed past her, nearly gagging in horror. The child was unrecognizable, his flesh spread across the floor of the throne room. His hair floated lazily in the pools of blood and his teeth were sticking out of the wooden spike. _Talos..._

"I... yes," I began, pain in my heart. I brought my hand up to my cloak. "The enchantment apparently works. Though, then it's useless to me now." I brought my hand up to Tanyin's throat and a flame of pity and regret erupted in my chest. Useless emotions. And yet... I pulled the cloak from my shoulders, still dead inside. "I... take it. I want you to stay safe."

"After," Tanyin said, climbing atop me. I could not shake the feeling, through it all. And after. That I had... Everything I had done was terrible.

When we returned to the Lords with the Staff, my nightmares began. The Void. Those I had killed. Fire. Sithis.

The father of Dragons.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I moved past the first of the grunt Vampires to attack me, bisecting him at the gut. The Magick of Dawnbreaker flowed outward, lighting many of the other attackers ablaze in an explosion of Sunlight. They shrieked in rage as the weapon's intense power burned them to ash, sending them spiraling down into Coldharbour. "So, Bitch, I take it you aren't too friendly with Lamae either, then?" I asked while I planted a fire rune on the chest of another Vampire and shoved him into one of his buddies, causing them both to explode in a shower of singed flesh.

"Sadly, our goals seem opposed indeed," the Thalmor replied while tearing the throat of a Vampire out with her teeth.

I turned and deflected a blow going at Serana's back, burning the attacker to ash with Magick while I did. I growled to myself and understood what had to be done. "Bitch, Serana, Moth Priest – we can't survive this horde without watching our backs. Form a circle!"

"Not a terrible idea, I suppose. For a human," the Thalmor spat, moving towards me. I sliced my way towards her, eventually standing back to back with the Vampire-Elf. I hacked at the attacking horde of blood suckers, feeling sorry for those who had been forced into the unlife but doing my duty to protect myself and others. Serana and the Moth Priest soon made their way to us as well.

It was long, grueling work to fight the Vampires. The flood of blood and blood suckers never seemed to end, with the creatures seeming to be replaced quicker than we could kill them. On top of that, having to entrust my life to Thera once again was the most nerve wracking and dangerous thing that I was doing that day. Knowing she was close enough to kill me, or for me to kill her...

Finally, we did manage to stem the tide of reinforcements. "Enough!" Dwemer yelled as the last of her Vampires fell. She shook her head. "Just can't find good help these days. Oh, well, we'll have to recruit some more. River...wood? Yes, that'll do."

My eyes flared up and I rushed the Vampire, swinging my blade at her head while firing a blast of Flames at where she would move. To my surprise, the woman drifted _through_ my blade, becoming a red mist. I stumbled forwards, nearly searing my face on the heat of my Fireball. "Oh, please, it won't be that easy, Luv," Dwemer chided, firing a frost blast at me. She then ducked beneath an Ice Spike sent flying by Serana before grabbing the incoming blade of – surprisingly enough – Thera. Dwemer pulled on the glass blade and headbutted the Thalmor sending her tumbling to the ground.

"Together!" I shouted, running forward to slash down at Tanyi – Dwemer. She sidestepped my blade, only to be nicked by that of the Moth Priest, sending her stumbling into a drop kick from Thera. Dwemer spun through the air to be hit with a Fireball from Serana's hand that sent our mutual enemy tumbling towards me. I caught her with my right hand, having dropped Dawnbreaker for just a moment. "Now, just in case." I tore the cloak from Dwemer's shoulders.

"NO!" she screamed, tearing away from me with surprising strength. I shouted out in pain as a Frost Rune she had left on my arm exploded, freezing my fingers in place. I was only protected from frostbite by my Breton blood and some good luck. She then unleashed a steady stream of powerful lightning at the floor around her, sending the four of us flying away into unconsciousness.

When I awoke, I saw Thera standing apart, staring at me. Serana stood with her, glaring at her. When she saw me awake, she shot me her own angry glare. I sighed and pushed myself to my feet. "I'm surprised you didn't decide to kill me when I was asleep," I said harshly. Thera snorted in response. "You're afraid, aren't you?"

"No! A Mer of superior breeding _afraid_?" the Vampire asked, growling. "Never. Worried... perhaps."

"So what do you want?" I asked, collecting Dawnbreaker from the ground and sheathing it.

"I've been speaking with your... woman since we awoke about this," Thera explained, a touch of her usual haughtiness gone form her voice. She sighed. "Lamae Bal is more, perhaps, than our allies can deal with individually."

"An alliance? Between the Volkihar and the Dawnguard?" I asked, half incredulous. Honestly? It was probably our best, if not only, option. Getting Isran and Harkon on board would be tremendously difficult, though. On top of that, Thera would just be waiting for her first chance to betray me.

"It's our only option," Serana supplied. I groaned and raised my left hand to my face, surprised as the smooth touch of fabric glided across my face. My mother's cloak. "We have to do this."

I sighed and nodded. "Well, then, I suppose we should show each other some trust. The Scrolls – we need to read them, and the one you obviously brought with you. They should have critical information on how to kill Lamae. For good."

The Moth Priest laughed happily at that. "Yes, Mistress, this makes perfect sense!" he shouted, responding – perhaps – to some unspoken question that Thera had posited. "The Scrolls – often the same information can be read in two ways!"

"So there's a way to resist Lamae's control and kill her? Actually kill her?" Thera asked. She thought it sounded too good to be true, that we had everything we needed to start our war with the FirstBorn of Molag Bal. Oblivion, she was probably right.

"Yes. Truce?" I asked, holding my hand out begrudgingly. The Elf shrugged and took my hand, though it was obvious it almost caused her physical pain to touch a human. "We'll need all three Scrolls."

The three were soon collected and Thera stood in the center of the cavern, surrounded by Ancestor Moths. "Ah. This is why you came to this glade," I said with a smirk. "The Magick of the Ancestor Moths."

Thera turned to me, unamused. "Yes. Now..." she shook her head and sighed in disgust. "Get over here and read the Prophecy with me."

I raised my eyebrow, surprised. "You want to give me all the information here, too?" I asked. She nodded. She must have been terrified, not scared. I shrugged and walked over.

"Ready?" she asked, already unfurling the first Scroll.

"As I'll ever be," I grunted in reply, unfurling the second. Together, we unfurled the third and the world around us shifted.

There were bits and pieces of the world playing out around us. A flash of blinding light exploded next to me, birthing the mythically powerful Bow of Auri-El. Shadows erupted from the ground around a woman, leaving a red, bloody silhouette. Finally, the world stopped, leaving an ancient, Dwemer-Falmer map. Markarth was featured prominently, with a glowing, stylized sigil of the Sun burning a few miles outside of the Capital Hold. Then it ended.

"So..." Thera whispered.

"The Bow of Auri-El. The key to your destructive prophecy, and our only chance at killing Lamae Beolfag. Seems the Divines have a bad sense of humor," I grumbled.


	42. Lost Relics:Illuminating the Path

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

It was a strange set of events that had created the strange, potential bedfellows of the Volkihar clan and the Dawnguard. Our location of meet was the Weynon Stones in the center of Skyrim, the place nearly equidistant from the Dawnguard's fort and the Castle Volkihar. No one seemed very happy to be present.

The leader of the Dawnguard was a short, if strong and stocky looking Imperial. His beard was bushier than any I've seen for some time, lending the bald man the look of a madman living in a cave by himself. Judging by the smell of the man, that was a safe bet. His eyes were filled were the same weak, inane rage of any human when faced with a superior being. Despite his insistence that he hated all Vampires and had nothing in common with any of them, the angry look he had plastered to his face was an incredible facsimile of the one that Harkon was shooting right back at him. Behind us, fifteen or so Vampires did the same towards the twenty or so Dawnguard with Isran and Lucius.

"You dragged me to the center of this Bal-forsaken nation to speak with these mortal fools?" Harkon asked me, sneering down at the short Imperial. "The Dawnguard? Really? We might as well ally ourselves with children if we want to die this badly." Harkon's voice was, to give him credit, even more full of condescension than I thought a human's could be. He turned to me, scoffing. "When you said that you wanted to find allies, I expected those who weren't already chasing us with the mental aptitude of a mutt chasing its own tail."

"And I didn't expect the sad step son of a leech who couldn't even figure out how to find his own daughter for more than two thousand years," the mortal retorted, crossing his arms over his barrel chest. "Live and learn, I suppose. Or die and learn, in your case!"

The human reached for his huge hammer strapped across his back, only to have a black, clawed, armored gauntlet grab his shoulder and stop him. "As much as I hate it, too, this isn't the time," Lucius told Isran, shaking his head. The huge human looked over at me and sighed. "We need to come to an accord. An agreement that we both find favorable, so let's try to keep the betrayal, rage, and hate to the barest minimum."

"Yes, _Father_, the sad truth is that we need each other," Serana snapped at Harkon with a growl. He merely raised an eyebrow in interest as his response. "And there has got to be a way for you and your lackies to make peace with the Dawnguard."

"Ah, yes. The friends of your... What do you want me to call your pet human again?" Harkon asked his daughter patronizingly. "Lucky, right? Or, perhaps he'd prefer Spot?"

"It's Lucius to you," the human said, deadpan. He groaned and tugged at the cloak around his shoulders. "We're getting nowhere. Look, we need to at least come up with a general agreement. What do you want, in exchange for your help. Then we tell you yes or no, counteroffer. Goes on until we figure something out."

"I get the bow after the death of Lamae, and my daughter returns to my castle with me," Harkon demanded without a pause.

Isran laughed as if this were a joke. "And we'll give you thirty acres of real estate in Aetherius for free. What in Oblivion do you take me for? A fool?"

"Yes," Harkon growled, drawing the same angry growl from Isran.

"That doesn't help," I hissed, angry I was being driven to agreeing with Lucius. "You said you would present a counteroffer."

"That Bow is a weapon of the Sun. Of Mortals, not Vampires. The Dawnguard take it, you can have the girl," Isran grunted, his eyes glinting with the belief in the 'greater good' that the mortals – humans especially – so loved.

Lucius whirled and the man, gripping him by the shoulders and lifting him into the air. I raised my eyebrow as the soldiers of the enemy – ah, temporary allies – drew their blades and took a step towards Luc. A single glancing glare from the human was enough to stop them all in their tracks. "Excuse me..?" Lucius growled, knives flying from his eyes and glancing off of his commanding officer's steely visage. "You shut the Oblivion up, dammit."

"As much I love this, please let him go," Harkon said beside me, letting a few beats pass as Lucius' angry gaze met his. "Ugh, we don't have time to dally like children. Every moment that passes is another moment that Lamae gathers her strength to flatten us and all Skyrim, Tamriel, Nirn, and beyond. I'd love to tear his head off, and I'd prefer to do it myself. So please let him down."

Lucius glared at the Vampire Lord for a short while, then let go of the shorter man, one hand at a time. I chuckled to myself as Lucius was able to hold the man up with one hand, armor, weapon and all. When Isran hit the ground, he shook his head at the other Dawnguard, who sheathed their weapons. Lucius stumbled backwards suddenly as the Breton's fist collided with my _Jokaar_'s jaw. "Don't touch me, Dammit. She's a Vampire, she goes with them."

"No," Lucius growled standing straight up. He sighed and looked over at the woman in question, who was watching the whole proceeding with worried eyes. Lucius turned back to Isran and stifled another growl – poorly, as I could hear it from the ten or so feet away that I stood. "She stays with me."

Serana scoffed. "Dammit, I don't need your protection," she snapped. Drawing a surprised look from all involved. I saw Harkon's eyes widen in surprise and... rage, it seemed. I was even interested – this woman was a far cry from the one who had acted like a charmed child at the mere mention of Lucius' name just a few months prior. There was an odd steel to her voice.

Lucius' eyes widened and I was sure that his mind was replaying the moment he snapped at Serana that I was "his alone," or some such nonsense like that. "Ah, lover's spat," I sighed, drawing an enraged, surprised, and horrified snort from Harkon beside me. The young lovers' new found tryst had been news to him? Ah, delicious. "Now we really do need to hurry up. Just give us the girl and you can keep the bow." It was more important that I have another sacrifice, as Harkon could not be trusted. I could get the Bow of Auri El later.

Serana had apparently caught on. "No... Take the bow and I go where I want!" she lashed out angrily. Lucius looked over at her, torn between relief and fear, and I knew it was over. Harkon would take that deal, and Serana... well, it was only a Lover's Quarrel after all. Serana seemed a little surprised by this, but pleased nonetheless.

Harkon seethed for a moment, and so did his counterpart. "Well, you came home the moment you woke up. You'll come home again soon," Harkon said, holding in his rage. He even smiled. "You want to live, you'll accept this deal, Mortals. I do."

Lucius and Isran glared at each other before nodding slowly. "Serana -" Lucius stopped and looked over at Serana. "You make the decision, then." Isran grunted an assent. Serana nodded. "Then I guess we'd better start building our base here, since we won't agree on anywhere else. We -"

"Lucius!"

The entire area turned on heel, glaring at the man running towards us. Vampires hissed in hunger and fear. Dawnguard looked like they thought he was one of ours. Only Lucius seemed to recognize the terrified, heavily breathing Imperial soldier sprinting towards our negotiations. "Hadvar..? I mean... Legate, what are you doing here?!"

I turned to Lucius and frowned. But I remained silent – something was astir, with the shadows that we were already concerned with looming in the horizon. "Luc... Riverwood. It's gone."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stood with Serana and the twitching Hadvar in a veritable ghost town. "Divines. There's no one left," I muttered as I picked up a small, wooden sword from the floor of the blacksmithy. Hadvar's young cousin, now a young woman about to enter the early days of womanhood, had been stolen along with the rest of the town. I looked over at the Legate with nothing but empathy in my eyes. This type of event was one that I had lived through too many times, on both sides of the blade. I pushed myself up to my feet and turned towards the soldier, who was just holding back tears. "If we can, we'll find them.

"Who took them?" Hadvar asked. His voice had a surprisingly steely edge for someone so close to the breaking point.

I sighed and looked over at Serana, then back at Hadvar. "A woman. She knows that I care about the people here," I explained.

"So it's because of you?" Hadvar asked, no accusation in his eyes. He scoffed to himself and snarled. "I knew it would happen eventually. I just didn't expect..." He waved his arms about lamely. "Who? Who is she?"

"I'd -"

Serana stepped up. "She is incredibly dangerous," she said simply. "If you know, you can't go after her."

"I'm honor bound to!" Hadvar snapped. He glanced around with a snort. "Should have known Luc would find a woman who had the same hero complex as him."

"Find a woman?" Serana asked with a low growl.

"You know what I mean... Fine, just... I need to do something," Hadvar begged. He walked over to me and pulled the wooden sword from my hand. He cradled the toy weapon in his arms for a moment, as if trying to hug the people he had lost back to him. He looked so incredibly fragile. We all did, I suppose, all of us at least functionally orphans.

"Look, we know who did this and she scares me. _Me_," I told Hadvar, causing him to pall. "You need to get to High Queen Elisif, get her to at least prepare the army. But warn her not to march, until we completely know how to deal with this being, fighting isn't safe."

"Not safe how?"

"Any war we fought, we would lose the moment our opponent entered the battlefield. Doesn't matter how many soldiers we have there, they will all die, I will be taken as well, and terrible things will happen," I muttered hoarsely.

"But, surely the General -"

I shook my head. "Even if that helped, we couldn't. The Thalmor, the Vampires. The Empire needs Tullius. Even if he doesn't toss his hat into the ring for Emperor, he's necessary for the unification to take place before..."

"Before the Thalmor War," Hadvar finished. He sighed. "World's getting too damn violent. I was hoping I could at least get a decade of peace, maybe retire before fighting in the next gods forsaken war."

"Peace is for lesser men, Hadvar," I replied with a sad smile. I sighed and clutched at the black cloak hanging again from my shoulders. As I turned to leave, I glanced over my shoulder. "When the time for battle comes, I'll call for you."

"So we're heading to the bow now?" Serana asked.

I shook my head and pulled the hood of my cloak up. "Florentius and I spoke for a little while before the negotiations. Some things are starting to make sense in my head from the Scrolls, including a way we might be able to resist whatever it is that Lamae does. Unfortunately, ancient, sun blessed weapons are a bit hard to come by. Fortunately, on the other hand, Arkay told Florentius where the first one is."

"So we're leaving the bow to _her?_"

"It's definitely a downside," I responded, my gauntlet curling into an angry fist. "But I don't see any other way out of it."

**AN: Hey everyone. I hope you all had a Happy New Year. Sorry it's been so long, but I was enjoying my last weeks with my family before not seeing them again for three months. Ah, College. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this Chapter, and if you did please leave reviews. Also, feel free to ask questions if you want - about the unfolding future of the story, the past, anything. Thanks for reading.**


	43. Lost Relics:Ties That Bind

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I frowned as I spoke with Garan. "And you are sure that these things are what I saw in the vision?" I asked, thinking back on the items I saw in the darkness of the Elder Scrolls' gaze.

"Yes. The amulets of Bat and Gargoyle, the Rings of Erudite and Beast. Weapons of great power and, if what you say is true, the only items capable of defending Vampires from the total control of Lamae Beolfag," the Dark Elf replied. Harkon stood with us, considering what was being said. We stood alone in the Vampire Lord's tent, whispering amongst the riches. Couldn't have the Dawnguard learning anything. "The Atmoran's blindly given statement that the key to victory is in obtaining the Runic weapons displays his foolishness. No doubt those weapons will aid the humans, but we need more, especially for when we make our move."

"Indeed. The play for my daughter is a necessity, and one that must be acted out to perfection. We will not speak of these artifacts to our... temporary allies. Any advantage we can claim in _that_ battle, in the battle with Lucius... will be boon from Bal himself," Harkon said, turning from his examination of his reflection. He stroked his beard for a moment. "Do you know anything else that we can use to gain an advantage over the Dawnguard when the time comes?"

I smiled to myself. "Let me think... a dragon, hm? One of the most powerful dragons left on Nirn ready to lay waste in my name, all at the call of his name. Once Lamae Bal is dead, the dragon will be of much use in that battle. Other than that... I can have assassins at the ready. Archers ready to rain death down upon my enemies. Ah, _our_ enemies. Other than that... I can only think of a few groups, none of which I have any personal connection with, that truly _despise_ Lucius specifically," I explained. I smiled contentedly. Lucius would survive, of that I had little doubt. But afterwards, he would come for the woman he loved. And _then_ he would die by my hand, the final joy I had so desired for oh so long. "If you send Thralls to them, they will come. Take out a few of the Dawnguard before our final battle with them when their tattered forces assault the Castle."

"Are you sure that's how it's going to happen?" the Dawnguard asked.

"Of that I have little doubt," Harkon muttered. He laughed. "They would attack even if it was only their weakest member standing alone in the darkness. They are idealists, which I can respect. But they are also fools, a much more useful facet of their beliefs in the superiority of mortals over Vampires."

"And there is another facet of their existence that we must hold in our minds. Most of them are close quarters fighters," I said with a sly grin. I had a plan to enact an even greater victory for the Volkihar –specifically me, really. "The battle plan will inevitably have them warring on the front lines with Lamae, meaning we only have to, well, let nature take its course on the battle field. From there, our ranks will merely need to fire into theirs. They will be surrounded. _Dead_ in moments."

Harkon smiled, a thin, grim thing. "I love the way you think," he said.

For once, I decided to take the compliment without any disgust.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I cradled the sword at my hip with one hand, frowning. I was on the road with Serana, traveling to the first location of the Runic Weapons, and she was... women are scary when they're angry and annoyed. Especially Vampiric women who can turn into a seven foot tall gray skinned Daedra spawn capable of tearing you in half, drinking all of your blood, and then throwing the used husk nearly thirty miles away. Other than that, her angry glares were just peachy and delightful. Oof, if looks could drain the blood from someone's body and leave them an exsanguinated puddle of bone and skin on the floor.

I sighed and raised my eyebrows, laughing to myself. "Is there something _wrong_, Serana?" I asked, honestly getting tired of the passive aggressive shit. She hissed a growl at me and I rolled my eyes. "Okay, so... nothing? Good, I was worried you weren't just being sulky and had instead graduated to full on... please just tell me what's wrong, okay? I... women are confusing."

Serana just huffed and walked past me, moving quickly ahead of me. Her boots kicked up dirt into my face and I coughed. "Really? You know, I can't actually _do_ anything to fix this if you won't _tell me_ what's going on? What happened between Riverwood and here that you stopped talking to me?"

"It wasn't Riverwood," Serana snapped over her shoulder. She pulled her hood up, like she was trying to block my dumbfounded stare.

"I – what!?" I shouted, incredulous.

"You know what you did!" Serana snapped again.

"I – what!?" I simply repeated. My armor clinked around my shoulders.

Serana's response was a growl. My response was somewhere between a nervous whimper and a laugh. "Okay, so... Dammit woman, would you just tell me what in gods damned Oblivion is wrong!?" I shouted, stopping my movement in a _clang_ of Daedric armor colliding with itself. I looked up at the sky an screamed in exasperation. "I'm not moving. I will not move another damnable step until you tell me what the hell is going on!"

Serana whirled and it was like she had all the rage of Aetherius and Oblivion streaming from her eyes in that moment. Divines Above! Alduin was less angry than she did right then. "You don't trust me."

"I – what!?" I repeated, completely confused yet again. I was starting to sound like I had been cursed with a repetition spell.

She marched right up to me, all six feet of her making my six and a half feet feel very, very small. I swear, I was almost staring straight up. "Sweetie, what's wrong? And can you tell me in plain Nibenese this time?" I asked between gritted, smiling teeth.

Serana's eye twitched and a pang of fear ran through my gut. "You don't trust me," she repeated through gritted, snarling teeth.

"I trust you more than anyone Serana!" I shouted, indignant she would insinuate otherwise. "Why... what in Oblivion would make you think otherwise!?"

"No. You don't trust me to take care of myself!" she shouted right back, probably louder than me. She threw her arms apart and her hood slid from her head. Her hair, much longer now, waved about her head with the same jagged, angry movements that her body did. "What the hell is that about!?"

"I don't trust you to take care of yourself!?" I asked. I laughed dryly as it came to me. "When I attacked Thera. I told you it was my fight. It's _my fight_."

"So you aren't even going to apologize?" Serana asked indignantly.

"For what!?" I screamed.

"Oh, you don't know?"

"Serana, that woman is almost as dangerous as Dwemer. You didn't complain when I sent you away then!" I snapped. I moved towards the Vampire, our gazes meeting with a shower of sparks.

"I ignored you!" she pointed out. She shoved me back, hard. "I came back anyways, and I was the one that actually killed her."

"Oh, congratulations. That's just great," I praised sarcastically. "Next tell me about the time _you_ killed an entire army by yourself."

"Oh, I might have to start telling the story about how I killed you," she growled, turning away for a moment, then turning right back, eyes angrier than before. "You think you're so scary? So powerful? I'm a Vampire. A gods damned pure blooded Daughter of Coldharbour with ice in her gods-forsaken veins. I know powerful and scary and I've taken it all."

"Good for you!" I screamed. I laughed, perhaps a little too derisively but, hey, I was angry and acting stupid. "You survived one terrible thing. Great. You can't keep pushing that luck, Serana."

"Why not!? I can handle myself!" the Vampire screamed.

"I know you can!" I screamed in response.

"Then what is this about? Why are you acting like a scared child, dammit!?" Serana shouted, shoving me again.

"Stop it," I growled, low. She shoved me again and asked the same question, louder, angrier. "I said stop!"

"What are you so damn afraid of!?"

"I won't let another person die for me!" I screamed. "Because of me, Tanyin became a mass murdering psychopath. You want to know something? That cloak? It heals all your scars, everything wrong with you. She had her scars, which means she cut them back into her neck herself. I gods damned did that to her. Then there was Lydia. I trusted her to take care of herself. I wasn't there, and because of that she died. She died fighting that damnable Thalmor Bitch!"

I screamed incoherently at the sky, then returned my steely gaze. "Gods dammit, Serana. I won't let another person die because of me!"

Serana froze, her eyes filled with sympathy. I panted heavily and felt all the energy leave my body. "I..." I shook my head and covered my face with my hands. "Serana. Just... forget -"

"Luc, you have to let that go. Dwemer made her choices too. And Lydia died for honor, for doing what was right," she replied. It was my turn to freeze in place. "Luc, you have to remember, despite everything I'm still strong enough to fight my own battles. I'm a woman, not a girl, okay?"

"I know, and that's something I admire about you," I finally said, pulling my hands from my face; I saw tears glistening on my armor as I did. "Serana, it wasn't that I didn't think you could do it. I know you can. You're so damn capable in everything."

"Then what was it?" she asked, getting closer to me. She put her hand on my cheek, her cool touch cradling my face.

"I couldn't handle it. I couldn't do it. Just thinking about it, any of it. It fr – Serana..." I stumbled over it. Finally, it was like there was a small fire igniting in my gut. I just steeled my voice and shouted to her, "I just love you, and I couldn't help it!"

Serana gasped quietly, but didn't move away. Her gaze held mine, her amber eyes moving in quick, slight, erratic paths. The seconds seemed to stretch on for an eternity. "Luc I..." she finally said. She smiled sadly up at me, then coughed and turned away from me. "I... guess we should make up for lost time."

"Yeah. I guess," I agreed hollowly. I trudged past her, not stopping to look over at her. She just stared at the ground as I passed, just as lost as I was. "We should hurry."

I stopped when I felt a soft, smooth tug. My cloak. I turned to Serana, who was staring up at me with her lost, golden eyes. "Why?" she asked. I saw her eyes were glistening tears. It was surprising – Serana was always so stoic, so strong. Why was she crying? Why was she breaking down. Dammit, I was the one who had, well, said the word, right? Shouldn't I be angry and emotional? "I'd get sleeping with me. I'm attractive, you're attractive. But you're a human, I've... been with Molag Bal... dammit, Luc, you fought off Lamae Beolfag by yourself and I felt like running."

"I – what?" I asked, turning my body and holding Serana's shoulders. It all made sense now. Of course she was angry about me telling her to get away while I fought Thera. Of _course_ she was sad and angry with herself. She thought she had failed when we last saw Lamae. "What, you didn't... I'm sorry you feel that way, but you didn't do anything wrong – after all you stood up to Dwemer when she knocked me unconscious. Serana, you're scary and you're strong, and you know everything about me that there is to know. With anyone else I'd get weird looks and pity, from you I just get... you. You may _think_ you're a monster, but I'm not exactly Jarl Puppies-n-Rainbows myself."

Serana snorted and covered her mouth, still giggling. She sighed after a moment, stopping her laughter. "Luc..." she just stared into my eyes, smiling in a way that was, somehow, both light and reaching all the way to her eyes. "Oh, dammit. I love you, Luc." She pulled me close and hugged me tight.

I smiled and closed my eyes, burying my face in her hair. "I love you, too."

_**Jul**_

**Alvor**

Alvor awoke suddenly in pure darkness, struggling for breath. He groaned and spasmed, his stomach ejecting its contents in a violent burst. As he retched, he slowly became aware of the presence of others in the empty blackness around him. When he finally stopped emptying his stomach, he groaned and pushed himself up to his knees. "Hello? Hello, who is out there? Sigrid!? Dorthe!? Where are you!? Hello! Answer me! Dorthe!? Sigrid!? Anyone!" There was a noise in the shadows. "Sigrid? Dorthe?!"

The noise echoed once more, the noise of armored boots clacking against stone. "Sigrid?" Alvor asked, stumbling to his feet. "Is that you?"

"Oh, it is, honey," the woman's voice called back.

Alvor sighed, relieved that he had found his wife, not noticing the dark edge that was prevalent in her tone. "Sigrid," he gasped, stumbling to his feet and towards the source of the noise. The blacksmith embraced the woman happily, clutching at her shoulders. "Honey, I was worried." He pushed himself to arms length of his wife, holding her arms. "Where are we? Where's Dorthe? Have you seen our daughter?"

"No, unfortunately, she was not taken," the woman replied, her eyes closed.

"Good," Alvor breathed in relief. "I – wait? Unfortunately?"

The woman opened her red eyes and smiled, her fangs extending the width of her mouth. "But don't worry. We'll find her soon," she whispered.

Alvor shoved the Vampire away. "Sigrid. Don't do this," he begged, eyes wide and terrified. "Just... don't do this."

The woman laughed to herself and Alvor noticed none of the woman he had loved for decades in her eyes. "Sigrid..?" Then suddenly she was on him, tearing his throat with her teeth. Whatever remained of Sigrid's humanity flowed away with the blood of her husband.

"Soon, my Love. Soon you shall understand why," she said, coming up from the throat of her husband, face and neck and hair drenched in blood, "the darkness is so welcoming."

**AN: Hey everyone, sorry if this isn't action-y enough. I was just resolving some threads that had gotten out of hand and trying to set up the next section of the Lamae Beolfag conflict, as well as what comes beyond. The next few chapters will see Luc and Thera collecting the artifacts, another conflict with Dwemer somewhere in there, and, afterwards, the battle with Lamae.**

**Also: Wow! I can't believe I've hit 10,000+ views! Thank you all so much!**


	44. Lost Relics:Smiths of Riverwood

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Serana had been incredibly quiet since... well, since what had happened. We had walked along in relative silence, both of us kind of, just, coming to terms with exactly what this all meant for us. The empty night, with our only illumination being a candlelight spell I had cast, was rather beautiful. It had to be one of the few times I hadn't been assaulted on the road by an animal or bandit or dragon. It was, actually for once, peaceful. I read the map carefully, occasionally casting a Clairvoyance spell to make sure we were on the right road. "We should be getting close," I said, my voice cutting through the silence, the suddenness of it even making me flinch a little bit. I rolled up the map and pulled my bag around, putting the paper inside it. "The fort is on the other side of the hill."

"Hm," Serana replied quietly. I heard her blade whisper out of its sheathe.

Seeing as I was going to be fighting on the side of an army of Vampires, rather than just the clever Serana who would know not to get in the way of the sunlight explosion, I had switched out – temporarily at least – Dawnbreaker for a sword I had recently crafted from ebony and dragon bone. I drew it out and rested it on my shoulder, draping my wrist over the hilt to keep it steady. "Serana, there's something we should talk about real quick," I said, releasing a deep sigh.

"What about?" she asked. Her voice seemed normal, as if she had only been quiet because I had been.

"You know we're going to have to kill your father, right?" I asked, perhaps a little more callously than I had meant.

Serana looked down. "Luc, I made my peace with that when my mother locked me in a coffin Divines know how long ago," she replied after a moment's pause. There was another short pause and then continued to speak. "Dad's not much of a father, so there's not a lot of love lost. Besides, it's either that or let him kill me."

"I know, but – but there is Magick that continues whether we want it to or not," I explained. I turned to look up the hill and towards the fort, my armor clinking as I did. "When people are connected to each other they can't help but stay connected. You hate him, but you used to love him. It just changed, little by little."

"I know," Serana supplied.

"I just... I just want you to be prepared for it because... because if it could happen with your father, it could happen with me. Yeah, you hate him. I get that. But you still love him, just a little," I explained. I sighed and shrugged. "But I guess we'll just have to cross that bridge if it comes down to it. " I took another step towards the fort. "But before we focus on our ax to grind, we have an ax to find."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I crouched near the wall of the cavern, absently wiping blood from the stone floor and placing the blood-soaked finger above my open maw. Some dripped into my mouth and I was given a jolt of blood half-tainted with the blood of Lamae Beolfag. The entire room smelled like blood and bile and death. The shredded skin of dozens of dead humans was present all around, the only remains of the first cattle used in the creation of an army of Vampires.

All told, the remains of the feeding were even less than what I had left when I turned. Whereas I had left whole bodies, maybe a decapitated moronic human here or there, these had Vampires had left nothing but scraps and shreds. I had a feeling that they would be picking bones out of their teeth for months, if they were lucky.

"How many Vampires does Lamae need?" I asked myself as I began to rummage through the chests of gold and other things. Lamae had apparently been holding on to one of the Vampiric artifacts for herself, though why I had no idea. This woman had nothing but contempt in her heart – or rather where it had been eons before – for the Vampires who had come after her. I had been sure that this same disgust was transferred to the artifacts crafted by any Vampires. But no –she desired our weapons, if only to deny us what was ours.

No, perhaps not. Lamae considered Harkon and his underlings far below her notice. Whereas Lucius' desires and goals were laughably clear, there were so many unanswered questions about the First Vampire that I had yet to even learn to ask.

"The Mistress wondered when you would come," a woman's voice uttered from behind me. I smiled to myself and stood up, drawing my twin blades as I did.

"I would have hated to make her wait," I replied as I turned, raising my Daedric swords to the right side of my face, parallel both to one another and to the stone floor. The woman was a redhead human, a Nord. She looked... oddly familiar. "Though she could have just invited me."

"If you had not been invited, why would you be here?" the woman asked. She wasn't wearing any armor, merely a red dress. The only item she wore that seemed out of the ordinary was an arcane amulet draped around her throat. She caught my glance and laughed. "Oh you like it? My Mistress gifted it to me, a weapon with which I can claim you for her."

"She wants me? I must have made a more powerful first impression than I had thought," I responded. I growled. "Give me the amulet -"

"And you'll kill me quickly?" the woman asked mockingly. She laughed, clutching at her gut. "You cannot defeat one of the Mistress' children!"

"I've killed enough of your siblings to know that isn't true," I retorted, lowering my swords and sheathing them. "For none of you have true power." I took a step towards the woman, my skin becoming slick with blood and melting around me. "Watch the strength of a _real_ Vampire!" I shrieked in rage and my skin exploded outward, reforming into the gray of my true form.

"Then let us fight as True Vampires," the woman replied. She fell to her knees, a shudder running through her form. Her bones shattered as she fell and her skin soon became coated in her blood. I floated towards her, my claws ready for what was coming.

The woman surged upwards, her skin dissolving into a visage much like mine. "Let us fight like dark gods!" I growled, rushing forward to claw the woman to shreds.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I batted away the blade that rushed towards my head, spinning and backhanding the thrall that was about to do me in. "Alvor, you don't have to do this!" I screamed as I slashed through the chest of another thrall in the mass of bodies threatening to smother me in steel and blood. I looked up at the Vampire staring down at me, his red eyes hollow despite the dark grin plastered to his face. I _knew_ that there had to be some part of the blacksmith left in the burnt husk of his mind. "Alvor, it's me! Hadvar is looking for you!"

"I don't care!" the blacksmith shouted, swiping his hand to the side. He was wearing a set of heavy ebony armor with a matching shield on his left arm. In his right hand he held an ax, one that I _knew_ was the weapon that Serana and I were hunting. He grinned even wider, looking like a maniac. "I'll kill you all!"

I grit my teeth and decapitated another Thrall, my sword burning through his flesh to kill him. What had happened to Alvor in the short few months since I had last seen him. True, he had been taken by Lamae Bal, but how could the man that once had helped me find a home for Meeko be so... bloodthirsty? "Snap out of it!" Serana shouted. My eyes widened as she jumped in front of me, shoving a Thrall who was about to bisect me into the blade of his ally. "Focus!"

I nodded and burnt one of the Thralls rushing at her to cinders, drawing a sarcastic if good natured eye roll from the woman. I slammed my gauntlet into another sword before channeling a wall of frost from one hand and freezing a group of them solid. "How many of these people were your friends, Alvor!?" I shouted, slashing through the throat of another Thrall. "Talos save them and you, but how have you let yourself become this!?"

"The Mistress promises power!" Alvor screamed. He jumped from his perch above and slammed into me. I was sent tumbling but soon got back to my feet. I rushed towards Alvor, screaming, and slashed through the chests of Thralls that got too close. "She promised Sigrid, then me, and soon Dorthe!"

"Your own daughter!? Where is she? I can save her!" I begged, deflecting the blow of the Dawnguard ax – for this close I could see the carvings and it was indeed the artifact I was hunting – and landing a punch on Alvor's gut. He merely turned to mist around my blow and reappeared behind me. I barely turned in time to block the blow, the ax grinding against my dragonbone blade and creating a shower of fiery sparks. "_Fus Ro!_"

Alvor spat in surprise as he stumbled backwards, many of the remaining Thralls losing their balance as well. "I won't let Lamae take her!" I assured him, rushing forward to slash his arm off, only for another Thrall to jump in my path and take the blow instead. The bisected form of the human woman fell apart before me as I sprinted through, sending a quick prayer for her behind me. "I can save your daughter, Alvor, just tell me where she is!"

"She is hiding from us!" Alvor growled, throwing another Thrall and me and rushing behind the slave. The Thrall's body was soon pinned to the wall, a large spike of Frost sent by Serana protruding from his side.

"I will find her and protect her," I said, blocking a blow from a Thrall before slashing out.

Alvor's eyes filled with thanks that didn't translate to the rest of his face. "Then you will do so alone!" his husk spat spitefully. I slashed out, the enchantment of my sword burning through some of the mist that he had become. I turned in desperation towards Serana. My heart was pounding, screaming at me as the red mist advanced on her. I could see the blood rushing from her throat, the death that was going to come.

"Run!" I shouted, too late. He reappeared above her, missing a leg.

"Die, you -"

His body flew backwards, a spike of ice protruding from his chest. As the blood began to flow from his body he looked over at me, his eyes a glassy blue. "If you find Dorthe... tell her Daddy loves her."

I closed my eyes, holding back my own tears. "I wouldn't dream otherwise," I said quietly as his soul was released from its cursed body. I looked up at him. "Talos guide you."

I was silent for a moment, then walked over to his corpse and pried the ax from his grip. "I'll get revenge for you, my friend," I promised before looping the ax through my belt. I turned to Serana, who was staring at the body of my friend.

"Quick thinking," I told her, sheathing my sword as well.

"Thanks. I told you I can take care of myself," she joked.

"Ah, yeah yeah yeah. Sure you can," I shot back, smiling. I let the grin fall from my face. "Serana..."

"Look, just calm down. I survived and we have the ax. Let's go," she said, turning.

"If you'll take this."

She turned around. I was holding my mother's cloak out, brow furrowed and eyes steely. "Luc..."

"Take it," I repeated, a command almost.

Serana sighed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" she asked.

"Nope," I responded.

"Even though I'm usually the one saving you from being stupid," she pointed out.

"Uh-huh," I replied.

"Well... then thank you," she said. She came close to me and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. "I'll take good care of it." She wrapped the cloak around her and I immediately felt more at ease. "_Now_ can we go?"

"Well..." I began. I turned back to Alvor's body and was immediately sobered by everything. "Just let me..." I turned back to Serana and she smiled before holding up a shovel. I smiled back.

"I'm sure the mission can wait for a little while," Serana said, smiling softly.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

My claws collided with the claws of my enemy, sparks flying from our clash. "I will rip your throat with my fangs!" I snarled at her, snapping my jaws at her face.

"Fall, you bitch!" she snarled back, whipping her wing around to decapitate me. I jumped backwards, flapping my wings to escape the oncoming death just in time. The woman shrieked, summoning a ball of blackened energy to her claw. "Fall before a true Lady of Darkness!" The spell exploded outward, summoning a blackened sphere from Oblivion and, with it, a pair of Gargoyles. So this was the power of the Amulet of Gargoyles – to summon two Gargoyles. It seemed paltry, but it would have to do.

Regardless, it was now a fight I could enjoy – three enemies it would actually take a little effort to skin. I shrieked and rushed forward, my claws landing a glancing blow against the first gargoyle. Its stony skin deflected the brunt of the attack, causing my claws to shriek against its rough exterior. I twisted around its counter and flew past the explosion of red energy that blossomed on the ground, launching my own blast of energy at the Vampiress attacking me. She raised a wall of Magick, causing the energy to go wide and crash harmlessly against a wall.

"You must realize this is hopeless, bitch!" my enemy shouted, launching another blast of energy right at me. I rushed past it, misting around the gargoyle flying towards me. When I reformed I drove my claw into its throat with as much force as I could muster, the fingers piercing it and tearing away its life. The creature disappeared in a flash of black, though I was already on its brother, tearing its arm off and cutting out the gargoyle's heart with its own arm.

"You must realize," I whispered as the second gargoyle disappeared, "that is hopeless, bitch."

I turned into a cloud of bats, appearing next to the other Vampiress. The knife-point tip of my wing was slowly pushing its way through the bitch's chest until, soon, her heart was torn from her chest, adorning my wing. "Enjoy Oblivion, weakling," I muttered as she returned to her human form, the amulet reappearing on her throat. I opened my maw and tore into her throat.


	45. Lost Relics:Soldiers of the Coming War

**AN: So, I was writing this chapter and the strangest thing occurred to me. I set out with the goal of just hitting 80K words. Here I am over 1.5 times that! And I honestly didn't expect this many people to be reading it, so I want to say thanks to all of you. It wouldn't be the same without you.**

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

The Dawnguard troops glared at me distrustfully in this secondary defensible fort. They were showing me around, though it was with a begrudging sense of duty and thinly veiled hatred rather than the amity afforded an ally in a nearly hopeless war. Ostensibly, I was going to remain there for the day before beginning my travels to the Bow that night. In actuality?

These Dawnguard had been holding onto the Ring of Erudite. Apparently, they did not understand what a powerful artifact they had in their hands, a weapon with barely understood power even amongst Harkon's more studious followers. Most of the warriors were Nords, though, so I could blame their stupidity on natural human ignorance, much like those I had slowly purged from Harkon's retinue.

It was widely known what I had been doing, though Harkon did not seem to care in the slightest. The Court, as he often noted, was built on power and revenge. If Fura Bloodmouth had actually crossed me, she should have had the strength and foresight to defend herself. If not, she should have expected an attack. Besides, I brought in much more... useful followers in my travels. One of the Companions soon to enter the Circle, one of Lucius' most trusted followers. And then, there's Enthir, the fidgety fence from the College. Both had bowed to the Blood and both were incredibly useful, and would remain so. Those two were part of a... group I had secretly been maintaining for use at my future discretion. There were others, lesser but strong nonetheless, that served Harkon, too. Should they survive the coming war, they would also be useful pawns.

"And this is the room where you'll be staying. We'll have someone come wake you at dusk," the warrior muttered, already yawning. Most of the Dawnguard had come to adopt the sleeping schedule of their prey, or of their predator depending on who you asked, which ironically meant that the daylight hours were the safest for a Vampire planning on secretly murdering an entire group of soldiers. He motioned for the soldiers following him to stand guard outside the door and I smiled, the image of graciousness. He merely scowled in response. "Good day." And then slammed the door shut in my face.

I let the smile fall into a scowl of distaste. "Humans," I muttered quietly enough that the guards wouldn't hear. Besides, mortals were born to live in the sun. To do otherwise, for too long, it made them tired. Vampires were much the same, though our presence in the shadows had the tendency to wake us up even in the brightest day. Mortals, humans, did not get woken up by their vaunted sunlight. They drifted ever closer to sleep, regardless of whatever attempts they made to stave off their natural sleep cycle.

It was only a few short hours later that I began to hear the quiet snores of the two guards outside of my room, the two unconscious and, soon, to be sleeping for eternity. I bared my fangs and drew a small, iron dagger from my hip while I slowly opened the wooden door. Sometimes, these humans seemed like utter morons who couldn't stand a chance in a battle against a housecat. And, yet, there were the examples to the contrary. My _Jokaar_, my mirror who was my equal and opposite in every way. A shrewd mind turned towards a fool's pursuit; a warrior who tamed the cunning, deadly art opposite my own; a blunt, transparent fool whose intelligence just made him dangerous enough to watch with wary eyes.

As I tore my jaws from the throat of the second guard, I sighed. Why couldn't my opposite be like these fools? Then I laughed to myself – I would never hope for such a thing. To conquer only the weak, to force only the timid to submit? That was the mark of a **brute.** To make kings, gods, and Dragonborn submit? That was the mark of an _Empress_. Though, what was the fun in destroying strong enemies if you couldn't bully the weak ones every so often?

I released the man and watched as he struggled with the Magick now coursing through his veins, through his mind. I watched as his mind was slowly torn apart and rebuilt from nothing, his soul being drowned out by the intense power of domination present within every Vampire's veins and bite. It took almost three seconds – more than average – to enthrall the human. I then sent him to begin the systematic assassination of all his peers even as I marched my way up to the main room of the local Dawnguard Commander, not the foolish child who had greeted me when I had arrived.

The leader of this particular set of Dawnguard was an old guard member, one of the first to join up with Isran, apparently. A Bosmer woman who was, sadly, deep set in her ways. A Spy amongst their numbers would have been of such use to me, though there was time for that later. I doubted that vengeance or rage amongst all of the elite would outweigh the promise of Eternity, Man or Mer.

I drew my twin blades just outside of the main room's door, raising my foot and kicking the wooden barrier into splinters. "What in Oblivion!?" the Bosmer shouted, drawing that same ax that they all carried, a relic of an older time, perhaps. While she spun wildly, defensively, her yellow eyes eventually met my bloody orbs, her gaze quickly ignited with a fiery rage as it clashed against mine. "You know, with all this talk of alliance, I was worried I wouldn't get a chance to kill you."

"I never worried I wouldn't get to kill all of you," I responded simply. I twirled my blades then let them dangle at my sides before walking into the room. I shut the pitiful remainders of the door and grinned, a feral thing. I twirled the blades lazily, now, really only half-holding the weapon.

I have to admit: I missed this. Fighting against Dwemer and Lamae was an... interesting change of pace. If by interesting, one meant painful and rage inducing then, yes, interesting. Fighting against one of these, a simple, weak mortal was much more enjoyable. It afforded me certain benefits, such as not breaking a sweat and supplying a much needed bath... in blood. I barely even had to react to deflect the first clumsy blow!

I sighed to drive the point home and set my second sword down, letting it lean against the wall. While I did this, the woman continued her assault with the ax, bringing smashing blows down upon me. I deflected each with little difficulty, without actually even looking at the Bosmer attacking me. I stood up straight, still blocking the metal slab rushing clumsily towards my skull. "Just! Die!" she screamed between blows that glanced off of my sword. Stone and metal clashed against each other, one or the other shattering little by little as they collided.

"This is fun!" I mentioned with a wild grin, deflecting another blow wide and into the wall. The woman snarled and tried to pass my defenses. I let her and spun around the blow, rolling over the desk in the center of the room. As I landed on one leg, I lashed out with the other and the heavy wooden table slid into the Bosmer woman turning towards me. She grunted in pain and surprise as the desk crashed into her legs, pinning her against the wall. My sword slid down to the ground of the empty area beneath the desk, setting down next to her feet. "Oh, I'd tell you that you were close... but I can't lie _that _well."

"Damnnable Bitch!" the woman screamed. She struggled uselessly against the desk.

"Not strong enough?" I asked as I turned to the chest nearby and picked the lock. It sprang open with a quiet _spring_ and I grabbed the Ring from within. "Well, soon you won't be alive enough."

The woman's eyes widened as I stalked towards her, leaving my blade at her throat. She glanced up at the ceiling, her eyes glassy. "I... 'Did you know any strong man around?'"

"What?" I asked, dropping my blade slightly. I shook my head and snarled. "Doesn't matter." I buried my blade in her chest.

The Bosmer woman gurgled and laughed, sending flecks of blood onto my face. "'Oh, come'on... don't go away mad...'"

Then she died.

"It is done, Mistress," my Thrall said with a bow as he approached the shattered door. "There are none left."

"Good," I replied, still staring at the Bosmer woman. I pulled my sword from her chest and bent down to pick the other up. "But not quite."

I stood up and saw the Thrall nodding. "Of course, Mistress," he said, pulling out a knife and jamming it into his own throat.

I smiled. "Now, it is done," I said, wiping blood off of my face and licking it off my fingers.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I fidgeted with the Runic Shield strapped across my back; it felt unnatural to have the weight across my back. Even back when I was an assassin-slave, I didn't use a shield in battle. They were heavy, unwieldy... slabs of metal. I knew people who could fight amazingly with them, but I was not one of those people. But still, having it strapped across my back made me feel good. We were, yet again, one step closer to being able to defeat Lamae Bal. To getting other people to resist her angry control.

No one was clear just yet on why I could, of course. Even still, they couldn't tell. It wasn't the gifts of the Divines present in the weapons that were present also in me; despite being Dragonborn, god chosen, Thera was just as weak against the power of the first Vampire as any other being on Nirn. I had a few theories about it – possibilities of what it could be. Until I knew for sure that it was actually Dwemer who was the other that had resisted Lamae's domination, I couldn't actually support any of my theories.

Anyways, Serana and I were on the road, traveling between the location of the Shield and where the Runic Hammer was hidden away. She was telling me some joke, or I was telling her some joke. We were laughing. It was a good time. A happy time. "That was good, really," I said, still laughing slightly, shoving her shoulder lightly and earning a shove in my ribs from her shoulder in return. Given her above-mortal strength, I felt it like a nudge even through my armor.

"Oh, like you could do any better?" she retorted, faux anger in her response.

"I've told you better jokes than that a thousand times," I replied. "Face it – I'm funnier than you are."

"In your dreams," Serana jabbed.

I snorted. In a completely serious, I said, "You are my dreams."

Serana froze for a moment, then scoffed and slapped my shoulder. "I had you going for a second there, didn't I?" I said, holding back laughter.

"I – wait. What's that?" Serana said, the smile disappearing from her face. She drew her dagger and glared out into the wilderness around us. Her head snapped to one side. "It's coming from over there."

"What?" I asked, drawing my sword as well. "In case you forgot, I don't exactly have Vampire hearing, Serana."

She didn't respond, just staring off into the distance. "There's... someone? Someone's over there," Serana finally said. She took off, sprinting past the treeline before I could react.

"Yep. Just... leave me behind," I muttered to myself, not _quite_ sure if she could hear me. I sighed and took off running, my path crashing much more loudly through the trees than Serana's feather-footed sprint had. I could barely see her in the shadows, and her path wasn't the easiest to follow. As I neared, however, even I could hear someone else running from Serana.

Right into me.

Despite the fact that the person was only a girl – eh, maybe young woman is a better approximation – I still tumbled over. She had been moving incredibly fast, running for her life, when she'd crashed into me. On top of that, she had jumped from an outcropping of rocks nearby and just about clotheslined me. "Ah, no! No! Let me go, Vampire!" she screamed, her voice... familiar.

I grunted, more from annoyance than pain, as her fists slammed into me. If the young woman had been eating regularly for the past few weeks, I have no doubt that they would hurt. "Stop!" I growled, grabbing one of the open palms as it came towards me. My eyes widened as the wall of attacks ceased. "Wait... Dorthe! Dorthe, it's me! It's Luc – the Dragonborn!"

She stopped struggling against my grip. "Luc..? Luc!" she shouted, hugging me. I pushed myself up and hugged her back. "Luc, there's a Vampire chasing me!"

"Let me guess. Six feet tall, black hair, stunningly gorgeous?" I asked. I sighed. "She's not trying to hurt you. In fact, she's a friend."

The young woman pushed off of me and stared in horror. In the time since I'd seen her last – a short while before her twelfth year began more than six months ago – she'd become hollow. Her ribs were showing from beneath her tattered clothes and emaciated skin, with scars and scabs visible on much of the other skin showing. Rashes, infections. She was sick. And obviously even less of a fan of Vampires than Isran himself.

I glanced up, just past the young woman, when Serana ran through the trees. Her eyes widened when she saw her quarry and the dagger disappeared into its sheathe. "It's a kid?" she mouthed, horrified. I nodded and looked down at Dorthe again.

"Dorthe... I – I found your father," I told her softly.

Her eyes lit up for a moment. "He... is he okay?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

My breath caught as I began speaking. "He is... Dorthe, I'm sorry, but your father is dead."

"Did he at least..." she began, holding herself together. She was a strong girl. "Did he at least die human?"

I sighed. Physically, no. But spiritually? Mentally? "He died a Man. His last words were a plea that I find you. That you know how much he loves you," I finally said, earning an unsure look from Serana, but a sad, thankful smile from Dorthe. I doubted this... this half-truth would ever come out, though perhaps she could learn when she was strong enough. It hurt my conscience a little too much, though. "Though he had turned. He fought. Held on to who he was."

Dorthe's head fell. "... And my mother?"

I put my hand on her shoulder and raised her gaze to mine. "I'm sorry. I have not found her yet," I said. I started to speak, then let my mouth shut. "Hadvar lives. He waits for you, in Solitude."

Serana nodded. "We'll get you there," she said, already reading my mind. She smiled sadly at the young woman who stared distrustfully at her. Serana shrugged. "I can personally guarantee your safety. Hey, I'll even stay thirty steps ahead of you and Luc if that's what it takes. We'll get you there."

Dorthe glanced between me and her. Finally: "Do you have any food?"

I laughed dryly. "Of course. Let's make camp," I replied, summoning a stream of fire to my hand. "We'll get you some chicken – or fish? Eh, let's have both! This is time for a celebration, finding you."


	46. Lost Relics:Family Reunion

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Dorthe didn't have it in her to walk too far or too long, weakened as she was from starving in the wild. Her legs and arms looked like twigs, though the rashes and scabs up that had covered her arms and neck were now mostly faded away. Soon, she would be healthy again, though that time was still a few days off. Solitude, meanwhile, was right in front of us.

Dorthe had been adamant that she walk up the hill herself, when we'd been at the base. She was just like her dad, her mother, or her cousin: strong willed and proud. Unfortunately, her stubborn desire to support herself when she saw her only surviving family couldn't quite make up for the shattered state of her body. Barely halfway up, she collapsed to the ground. When I'd tried to help her up, she had told me not to help her and began to drag herself up the path.

"You have to let her at least try," Serana had told me when I'd tried to help despite the protests. "It means a lot to stand on your own two feet or to even crawl on your hands and knees to get something. If she fails, she learns her limits. But even then, every step's a victory."

I glanced at the woman dragging herself up the back half of the hill. This young woman had been through so much. "There's also a strength in knowing when you have to rely on others," I said, looking over at Serana as I did. "I..."

"Dorthe," I said, walking towards her. "At least use something to help you stand... here." I held my hand out to help her stand and remain steady.

The young woman stared up at me for a moment, face covered in dirt. "Look, you've been running on adrenaline for weeks. Hadvar wouldn't let me live it down if I let you do this all by yourself."

Dorthe glared for a moment longer. "No, he probably wouldn't," she finally replied. She took my hand and let me help her to her feet. She stumbled forward for a moment, but caught her footing. "Let's go."

"Let's," I replied with a smile, slowly walking up the hill with Serana and that young, powerful woman.

The way up was slow and shaky. Dorthe, even with my help, was barely summoning the strength to drag her feet, one before the other. But she was. She was making her way, standing tall, up towards Solitude. Dorthe, in an odd way, reminded me of myself; I had fought in struggled when I was about her age, after my parents' deaths. I was alone, but I did not have the luxury of anyone who still cared about me. I was happy that the young woman wouldn't have to experience that as I had.

"Hold! State your business!" one of the guards called as we neared. I cocked my head to the side as the soldier approached. Behind his helmet, I was sure his eyes had widened in self castigation. "Ah, Thane Atmoran. My apologies, just orders from the queen."

"Then you do well following them," I replied with a disarming smile. The soldier's shoulders seemed to fall a little, easing out of attention. "I am here on... well, I suppose it is somewhere between personal and official business. Could you please get word to Hadvar that I'm waiting for him in my home? Tell him it's of the utmost import."

"Of course," the soldier said, slamming his fist into his chest in salute. He glanced at Dorthe and nodded before looking over at Serana and shivering slightly. Finally, he nodded his head at the Vampire woman, who was already rolling her eyes. He turned to the other guards. "Open the gate!"

I turned as Serana began speaking. "You ready to see your family again?" she asked Dorthe, a hint of jealous longing in her voice. Despite everything, she wanted her father and mother to be like Hadvar was for Dorthe – return to her, whole.

I stared sadly at Serana for a moment before catching her eye. She shrugged, knowing what was on my mind and telling me that it was merely the way things were. I doubted she completely felt that way, and I was again reminded of my talk with her. She still cared for her father, then, in that moment. Could she kill him? Could _I_ if it meant losing _her_?

Dorthe nodded and we walked into Solitude, Serana and I shoving the dark thoughts from our minds as we led the girl, finally, to her surviving family.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

When I stalked into the main room of the Thieves' Guild's Ragged Flagon, the entire group of larcenous criminals looked towards me and cheered. My use of the Skeleton Key, of which I was still attempting to figure out how to _truly_ use, had gathered much loot for them and they were enjoying a certain... renaissance. They were still cursed by Nocturnal, of course, but it's not like they knew that. And on top of that, they were still the most skilled thieves in the province. They had their uses and they would be maintained as long as they did.

"Thera , what are you doing here?" Vex asked, glaring at me from her usual spot. The corners of her lips dragged up. "Who do I get to steal from today?"

"Oy, no, it's going to be me," Mallory said as I got closer, sliding out of his chair and smirking at the woman. He grinned, a slimy thing that made me want to slit his throat, but he was just too damn good at his job. "Unless you'd rather make a trade?"

"Unfortunately, it _is_ going to be Vex," I said, rubbing his shoulder and forcing a little Vampire Magick into the action. "Vex is the specialist at breaking in. She's the one who's going to be able to get what I need. And I'm going to need you here to keep an eye on everything while she's out."

"Ha. Serves you right," Vex grinned at Delvin, who began to growl and mumble angrily to himself while he went to go get some mead. Vex just smirked and watched him go, still mumbling to himself. She turned to me after a moment. "What you got?"

"How would you feel about running the first job in Cyrodiil?" I asked her, eliciting a huge grin. "This is a job for me, personally. It's big and important. Something I... desperately need."

"Well, I'm the best," Vex replied bluntly. "Where is it? What is it?"

"There's a very special necklace – an amulet – that the Synod somehow got their hands on. It's in the shape of a bat skull, two rubies in place of the eyes. You can take whatever else you wish from them – in fact, I would encourage it."

Vex whistled. "The Synod," she said, impressed. "They have a lot of old stuff. Expensive, Magicky shit. And you want... a necklace?"

"Old, Magicky necklace," I responded, earning an eye roll from the Imperial. "It's important, powerful."

"What's it for?" Vex asked, pushing off from the pile of crates and

"Why, killing a monster," I supplied, fangs flashing slightly in the darkness.

_**Jul**_

**Fahiil**

Dorthe was a surprisingly clean eater. Her time starving on the road had only served to make her appreciate food all the more, which I thought seemed odd. Serana said it had been the same for her, at first. She hadn't had a drink in centuries, so when she came out she'd wanted to savor whatever she could get. A little disturbing of an idea, in retrospect, but I understood what she meant.

But, of course, she was still eating me into the poor house. I had a standing order to fill up the stores of Proudspire Manor every few weeks – before the Vampire thing started I'd had to stay there to help with Queen's new government and Tullius' attempts at keeping the peace. When the next shipment came in, I always had a few servants organize a city-wide feast. Looks like this month's wasn't going to happen – the young woman was eating it all herself.

Serana, being her usual Vampire self, was barely even picking at her plate of food – something that was laid out only to make Dorthe more comfortable. After all, Serana's tastes ran a little more red than the rest of us. I was full, three plates in. "You should... take a break," I suggested as the young woman devoured her eighth bowl of chicken stew. "If you eat too much, you might hurt yourself."

"Well, the healers can worry about that if it comes to it," she responded as she jammed another loaf of bread into her mouth. Her next words came out completely muffled by the food in her mouth.

"Thane Atmoran, you have a visitor," Jordis said, walking in tot he room. She, like all my housecarls at this point, was wearing a set of glistening ebony armor. From what I'd heard, the Thanes and Jarls across the province called them the Ebon Warriors. A silly name, though one that they all apparently _liked_.

"Thank you Jordis. Send him in," I said, bowing my head slightly. She saluted, slamming her fist to her chest then moving away. I grinned at Dorthe. "He's here."

"Okay, so what did you want to see me abou-" Hadvar asked as he walked in. He froze and stared at the young woman sitting at my dining room table. He looked up at me, then back down at her, tears starting to stream from his eyes. "D-Dorthe?"

"Hadvar!" his cousin shouted. She shot up and wobbled. For a moment, I thought her legs were going to fail her, but her iron will held on. It seemed hard to believe this was the same child I had met almost three years earlier who had been so angry at her mother because she wouldn't let the girl train to be a blacksmith with Alvor. I frowned sadly as she ran to embrace her cousin. Despite everything, it was bittersweet without Alvor or Sigrid there. Alvor was dead and Sigrid... well, even if she was 'alive,' it didn't seem like Vampires turned by Lamae were exactly in control of themselves.

"How did you find her?" Hadvar asked, still clutching at his last surviving family member.

I smiled and jerked my head over towards Serana. "She did," I said.

Hadvar turned to Serana. "I... Thank you, so much. I – thank you. Thank you so much." He put his cheek on top of his cousin's head, barely holding back the tears that were so clearly evident in his eyes. "Thank you Serana. I – Gods above Bless you."

Serana blushed and glanced at the ground before brushing her hair from her face – it was longer now, flowing down and pulled around to rest below her left shoulder, her raven tresses like a river that, along with her red cheeks, made her pale skin and glimmering eyes even more striking. "It – It was an accident," she said.

"Fate then. Divines bless you both," Hadvar said, his voice cracking and warbling as he clutched his cousin closer like she was going to disappear into thin air if he didn't. The tears began to stream down his cheeks and into Dorthe's hair. He began to sob, as did Dorthe. "Thank you..."

_**Zuspein**_

"Okay. The High Queen's army is assembled. Ready to fight if you just give us the where and when," Hadvar said. As soon as Dorthe had fallen asleep, exhausted from her weeks of trials and tribulations suddenly ending in a blaze of relief and joy, the three of us had sat down to talk about the coming battle. "A thousand proud Nords prepared to defend their homeland."

"Many of them will die," I said quietly, still coming to grips with the idea.

"The alternative is that the world dies. None of them are prepared for that," Hadvar replied, placing his hand on my shoulder from across the circular table. He looked over at Serana. "Can we trust your father's forces?"

Serana snorted. "No. He's going to betray us as soon as the battle's over," she said, running a hand through her hair. "He'll try to kill everyone – everything – not allied with him."

"Which means we're going to have to keep a secret among almost fifteen hundred soldiers who are going to need to turn on the Vampires at a moment's notice," I finished with a sigh. Through my mind ran my memories of my last attempt at allying with Thera, specifically the death of Paarthurnax. Honor was a fool's prize when in battle with her, because she had none of her own. The only constant in her life would be her desire to betray all around her. "How can we manage that? Even if it weren't already a given that there are Thralls within every level of the military."

"So you can't trust us?" Hadvar asked, slightly offended.

"No. We can't trust _them,"_ I said, frowning and tenting my hands in front of my face. "Yet. But we can trust Sybil. Have her track down any Thralls seeded in those thousand men, ask her as a favor for me. She'll do it in a – " I glanced at Serana out of the corner of my eye, a slight and amused smirk running across my face. "– heartbeat."

"Okay, but... checking a thousand men?" Hadvar asked. "That could take forever!"

"Group it by twenties. It'll take a while, and it might take a lot – send for whatever Sybil asks for from the College and sign that it's for me. I'll pay for it all later. After all, adventuring leads to an obscene amount of Septims in a short period of time."

Hadvar looked around at Proudspire Manor's expensive furnishings, adorned with interlocking images of dragons and Suns. "Really? I couldn't tell," he said with a deadpan glare. He shook his head. "Fine. I'll get Sybil Stentor on it; I'd do anything to get back at those milk-drinkers who took my family."

"Good. Then all we need to worry about is Luc here trusting someone who will obviously betray him," Serana said. She began grinning at me when I glared at her. "Hey, I call them like I've heard the stories."

"I've learned from my mistakes," I retorted.

"And here you are, running into battle next to Thera once again. Trusting her with the bow," Serana replied. She crossed her arms and scoffed. "Learned from our mistakes yet, have we?"

I was silent. She had been joking and yet... Serana's face became quiet, questioning. Worried. "No... maybe I haven't," I mumbled. I smiled and stood up suddenly. "Time for us to go. We have a war hammer to find and a monster to slay, and we're already days behind."


	47. Lost Relics:Voslaarum & Naaslaarum

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stood outside of Darkfall cave, still angry. Serana and I, immediately after delivering Dorthe to her cousin, had gone off to collect the Runic Warhammer from its resting place. After events revolving around a haunted brothel and waking up naked, Maickally hungover, and chained to a bed with Serana sleeping next to me that, honestly, I don't think I'll get into with you right now, we finally completed our task. We had all three Runic weapons and made our way back to Isran by the end of the week.

He, in turn, alerted us that the bitch hadn't been back to camp yet. "They're planning something," Isran had growled.

"To betray us, no doubt," Serana had replied before I could. "Though, they are bloodsuckers."

Isran's mouth twitched at that one; he was starting to like Serana despite his attempts to the contrary. "Aye. Which means we should start to plan our betrayal," Isran had replied, glancing at me and expecting I launch into a tirade about honor.

I shrugged in agreement instead. "Honor around Thera usually ends with my friends dead," I had said simply. "So we go for the bow. If she isn't back yet..."

"That means she doesn't have it. Despite their desires to betray us, they would share that knowledge," Serana had finished, nodding her head as she did. "After all, as a Vampire, I can say that the creatures of the night want Lamae dead just as quickly as the mortals do."

"Then go get it," Isran suggested.

Which leads me back to here. Two weeks out from delivering Dorthe and wondering if I should risk going in and passing Thera on her way back out – thus losing our first, best chance at the bow. Or should I stay out here and wait for her, potentially risking that she had not yet arrived. "Well, if we go in and she's already been here, it means that she's killed everything that's ahead of us and we can catch up," Serana pointed out from beside me.

I nodded. That was true. "And if everything's dead, we'll be in and out a lot faster than she had been," Serana continued.

"You really want to go into the cave that badly?" I asked, staring sidelong at the woman.

"Hey, I'm getting a sunburn here, 'Mr. Mortal," Serana said, pulling her hood lower over her head. "Not all of us can have warm, delicious blood pumping through our veins."

"Well, that wasn't creepy," I said, earning a laugh from Serana. I sighed. "But you're right. We need to go in there – at least to find anything else Magickal and powerful that she would have passed over."

"Glad we're on the same page," Serana said, pulling her hood down and walking into the cave.

"We aren't on the same page about the blood thing, though," I called down.

"Hey, if I wanted your blood I'd be drinking it," Serana said. "Though, I haven't wanted any lately. Maybe you're rubbing off on me, you mortal weirdo."

"Oh, shucks. I bet you gorgeous psychopaths say that to all of us formerly insane assassins," I said, following her into the darkness.

"Ha. Nope, just you," Serana replied.

"Aw, I feel so special," I said as the shadows enveloped me.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

That Snow Elf – disgusting. He wouldn't even keep the name of his people – the name of the Elf. 'Falmer,' the name an elf gives to their people. He had instead taken the name of Snow Elf, the bastardization of the mere translation of his people's name into Nibenese. I understand now why the Falmer were driven to extinction by the feeble fools that were the humans – they were weak and moronic fools that were so powerless and unworthy that they don't even deserve the smallest fragment of pity that I could possibly try and summon. Only a fool would hand over the superiority of our kind to the weakness of humanity. I had considered cutting him down then and there, but that would have only hampered my progress towards the Bow. He was apparently the guardian of the Path of Sun or some other nonsense named road like that.

So now I was walking through a sun-filled glade full of forest creatures. It looked like a gods-damned painting in a children's book. Just to clear my thoughts, I decapitated a deer as it ran by, taking in its blood as the red fluid shot into the air. "Better," I muttered to myself as I stepped past the puddle of blood on the ground and continued through the valley.

I'm sure that the valley was, ugh, "beautiful," but that didn't really matter to me. The bow was here – I could feel its all encompassing burn from all around. It felt as if it wanted me to leave, to run and hide and abandon any attempt at claiming it for myself. But that would not happen. Besides, this would make it all the sweeter to take the weapon and make its purpose that of darkness. To destroy the Sun with its own weapon – how deliciously ironic.

I made my way through the valley, easily scaring off the frostbite spiders that came too close. It wasn't long before I had made my way to the many shrines to "Auri-El" that scattered this first half of the valley's opening. Each one was guarded by the spirit of a Snow Elf – for they did not even deserve that I call them by their true name – who was annoyingly preachy and religious. Good for them they were already dead, or they would have soon found their heads separated from their bodies. Eventually, I approached a frozen lake on my path to the last few shrines necessary to opening the path towards the Bow.

"Something feels... wrong," I muttered to myself as I approached the edge of the ice. Light danced off of the surface of the lake, blurring my vision and burning my skin. Even still, however, I could see the large shadow that danced beneath the thin layer of frost. I instinctively took a step forward. "What... are y -" I screamed in surprise and anger as I was suddenly hit by a large, hard, scaly object. I slammed my fist, still – Bal be praised – clutching one of my swords, into the thing that had attacked me. I barely maneuvered out of the path of a ball of flames, sliding down the neck of the creature. "Dragon!"

This creature, I noticed as I grabbed onto one of the spines on its back so as to not tumble hundreds of meters to my death, was a different breed of dragon that the ones I had seen before. It had a thin layer of skin sticking out from the top of its body that seemed to catch the air and hasten its flight. Aside from a few spines running along its back, it was much smoother a dragon than the ones I had fought so far, made for quick movement. Swimming too, it seemed. Worse still, this creature was ancient and powerful, a clever being that had survived the aeons of the Blades and Men annihilating them. Still, it would be no match for me, I was sure.

I took the sword I still had in my hand and swung it around, burying the glass tip in the hide of the dragon where its wing met its back. The dragon shrieked in its language, "_Ulfah ruth_!" I hung on even as its wing flapped lamely, coming close to slamming me aside many times towards an icy, watery grave. However, I did not fall. We both tumbled downwards, crashing through a word wall that had been standing beside the frozen lake. I was finally thrown off the dragon's back, a block of the wall crashing into me and sending me skidding along the ice.

"_Ruth_!" I spat, scrabbling to stand. I saw my other sword nearby and dove for it, standing and turning towards the dragon once again. Unfortunately, just as I stood, the ice below me cracked and exploded outwards. Thankfully, this time I was not directly in the dragon's path and I was instead thrown aside on a block of ice that was thrown out by its body as it rose. This time, I was able to flip midair and land on my feet, sliding across the surface of the ice to glare at the two dragons. One – the injured dragon – shrieked at me and stumbled backwards, the sword in its shoulder unbalancing it. The other, so similar to the first that I was sure they were twins, launched a fireball towards me. I sprinted sideways, out of the flames' path. There was a hiss as the ice where I had stood melted then boiled into steam.

"So, Dovahkiin, you finally grace us with your presence," one of the two dragons hissed as I panted. It growled, low and shaking the ice below it. "So, I take it that this means Alduin is gone?"

I scoffed. "Almost two years ago, now," I replied, standing straight but ready to bolt. "He died like a coward and fool, running from a fight."

The injured dragon laughed. "Indeed?" he asked. He laughed again. "As we knew it would be – he feared your kind the most, Dovahkiin. He claimed to fear no mortal, but the mere thought of Dragonborn turned the king's blood to ice."

"Then he never changed, I suppose," I said. I frowned. "Why have you not yet attacked again?"

"It is not often we see another of our kind. Mortal you may be, but _hi lost sil do Dovah_."

I nodded. "Indeed. I bet it is," I remarked. Then I readied my blade for battle again. "But am no mere dragon – you are beneath me, pest."

The dragon shrieked in rage, firing off another blast of flames that I jumped over, running just in front of the cracks that erupted across the ice. I slid beneath the bite of the dragon – the injured one – and thrust my sword upward. The glass tip pierced the soft undeflesh of the dragon's throat, slicing through its neck and into its chest. The dragon shuddered for a moment, then its disappearing body collapsed on top of me. Hm. Perhaps not the best idea.

"No. It seems you are beneath my brother," the other dragon snapped, eyes wide and full of hate. It took in breath, the rumblings of Words in its throat.

Then a bolt of lightning flew through the air and the dragon's flesh melted away, its body flying through the valley and crashing into snow and stone on the ravine wall. There was an echoing crack as its bones snapped and rock cracked from the force of the blow.

There was only one who could do that. "What, you didn't trust me?" I asked as I maneuvered my way, slowly, from beneath the dragon's bones. The wind whirled as the second dragon's soul flowed through the air towards him, the movement whipping the woman's hair beside him into a frenzy.

"I trust you," Lucius growled, a Dragonbone sword burning in one hand and a storm of sparks flying in every direction from his other, "about as much as the Greybeards trust me."

I smiled at that. "Oh?" I asked, grinning evilly. "They still not like their extra Dragonborn who killed Paarthurnax?"

Atmoran's eyes flared and the lightning in his palm danced dangerously. "Don't test me."

"Why test one beneath me?" I asked, still smiling. I sighed and turned to point up the ravine. "We need to head up there to get the bow. Are you coming or staying here?"

**AN: Sorry that was a bit shorter than usual, but this is just setup for the big fights in the next two chapters. Vyrthur, obviously, in the first. And I'll let you guess who number 2 is.**


	48. The Bow of Auri-El:Traitor and Betrayed

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stared up at the statue of Auri-El, in this sculpture taking the form of a huge, bronze – or perhaps a gold that had been worn down – snow elf; a large, regal crown of spikes grew from his skull in the shape of a sun's beams. Auri-El, god of the Sun. Or Akatosh, dragon of Time. Regardless of the name, this was a carving of the being who had decided – for some reason – to grant the Dragon's Blood to the diametric opposites of Thera and myself. "Good job," I mumbled dryly as the huge metal form ponderously turned towards the temple door. Sunlight began to filter through a huge crystal located in a large, metallic sun held above Auri-El by almost organic pillars jutting from his shoulders. A steady beam of light soon rocketed from the sun and a steady beam of light flowed into another diamond receptacle, Magickally being collected in order to open the door.

The door opened slowly, the sound of choir ringing out as it did. It almost sounded as if the gods were enjoying themselves with this. The door was massive and comprised entirely of marble of the purest white; a huge, engraved sun made of gold split down the middle as it opened, revealing...

Ice. The atrium beyond the entrance were filled nearly to the brim with ice. It coated the walls, covered every square inch of the ground, and stuck out from pillars, floor, and ceiling in stalactites and stalagmites that looked like they could pierce my Daedric armor. "Gelebor was right... The Falmer attack: it was destructive. Imagine what must have been lost here. Millennia of a history untouched and pure. If Gelebor is any indication, they would have despised your kind."

Thera snarled from beside me as we walked into the temple, shoulder to shoulder. Serana stood at my shoulder and slightly behind. "Well they _were_ defeated by humans; any who fall so easily do not deserve an alliance with the Thalmor."

"Hmph... the same Thalmor who lost to Tiber Septim while I was asleep?" Serana pointed out, earning another growl from Thera. "Or, do you mean some _other_ 'Supreme Elven Empire of the Thalmor?'"

"Remind me, who defeated whom in the Great War?" the Bitch retorted. My turn to growl. "And of course, there's always the inevitable tie breaker."

I stopped and waited for Thera to turn so we would glare into each other's eyes. "I doubt the Thalmor want what you are trying to accomplish here," I growled. "You will not be part of their war with the Empire."

"Ha! What Empire?" she retorted. "My sources say that Cyrodiil's currently divided between Khajit bandits, your vaunted 'Generals' playing the part of cruel warlord, and the Synod pretending they've got the Amulet of Kings."

I narrowed my eyes. "We both know where that is," I hissed. I turned my attention from her and began to look around at the temple. There were signs that Vyrthur had done his fair share of damage to the attacking Falmer during the battle; the Frost had frozen dozens of Falmer and their pet Chaurus solid. "Wow, that makes _my _Frost skills look like child play."

I grunted when I examined one of the Falmer. It was holding something in its frozen vice of a grip, clutching at... "What is that?" I asked, leaning in. I jumped back just as a claw of one of the Falmer snapped towards my face, frozen nails like blades. My weapon was already drawn as I hit the ground, blade rushing around to decapitate the creature as it came closer. "They're still alive!"

The atrium erupted into chaos, the Frost around many of the frozen Falmer shattering and erupting outwards. I deflected the incoming blow of the nearest with my sword, its arm shattering against the edge of my blade. Its frozen blood did not pour from its veins, the red liquid having long since turned to ice within its veins. The creature did not stop or hesitate in its continued assault, almost as if it did not feel the pain of its wound. Worse still, its jagged arm was sharp enough to kill, and its much thicker bone seemed durable enough to go toe to toe – or edge to edge, rather – with my own sword.

"I thought these things were dead!" Thera snarled as her fist punched through the skull of one of the incoming enemy.

"Well, it's always been theorized that a strong enough Frost spell _could_ halt the aging process and allow one to survive for decades without food or air," I supplied, dodging a slash of bloody ice to blast the creature with flames. It heated too fast, its head exploding outward and onto my armor. Yet another stain. "Our presence – or rather, mine and that of the sun streaming in – could have been just enough to thaw them from their slumber at the point of their last thought. And, being Falmer, their last thought was of murdering anything that isn't Falmer." I caught the incoming wrist of another Falmer before sending a current of Sparks down its body to kill it.

"I don't care," the Bitch responded curtly, decapitating another. "Theory isn't important, just tell us what we actually need to know."

As I was about to snap at her again, Serana said, "Sadly, she's right. Save it for your next paper as the Archmage – wouldn't want anyone stealing from you."

"Be glad you're gorgeous," I growled, low, at Serana. She laughed, a high and pealing note that contrasted with my growl. She launched a fireball towards the Falmer, the resulting explosion causing a group of them to shatter from the sheer force, the shards of the dead flying outwards even further to kill more of their comrades. "And scary."

As I kicked the last of the surviving Chaurus into two, I turned to Thera and Serana. "We should continue," I said.

"Really?" Thera asked sarcastically. "I thought your plan would be sitting around here flirting with your whore."

"You know, I'd threaten to kill you because of that, but you we both know that isn't an option right now," I growled at her, my grip on my weapon tightening then loosening in exhaustion. Dealing with Thera was like dealing with Sanguine again – _utterly exhausting_, but so much less entertaining. I'd been sure to leave my near-miss marriage to a Hagraven out of the stories I'd told Serana...so embarrassing.

"Yes, likewise. You'd already be dead if I had my way," she responded.

"I would've just left you to the dragon's mercy," I retorted, quieting her. I raised a flame in my left hand, casting light before us with the added benefit of having a powerful attack at the ready. I sighed and took a step further into the shadows.

The battle through the temple was constant, but no big problem. The frozen Falmer were ancient; stiff with the chill and their age, they fell before the three of us in droves. They were waves crashing against us, but we were stalwart cliffs that deflected them with ease.

"I can feel something... bright not much further," Serana said as we neared the end of the temple. She frowned. "And something very... dark."

I nodded and cast a Sense Life spell, gazing through the double doors before us. "Dozens of frozen Falmer, maybe more," I grunted. On a whim, I cast another spell to see if any undead lay beyond. "And... a... a Vampire?"

"Guarding the Bow of the Sun?" Thera asked dryly. "Well, it's certainly expected. I'd bet it was the plan all along."

"Shut up, milk-drinker," I growled. I turned worriedly back to the door as my sense beyond it faded. "Maybe it wasn't only the Falmer that attacked Vyrthur. Or maybe our enemies have made their way here before us and lie in wait. We must be prepared for anything – blades out, Magick ready. Let's go." I shoved the doors before us open, and we stepped into the frozen unknown.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Far above us, sitting on a throne atop a veritable mountain of ice, was a snow elf. Vyrthur, the priest of his species – or at least the two fools that survived.

Gelebor had insisted that his brother was a kind man, a priest of the God-King of creation and known for his justice and mercy. From where I stood – a good twenty feet below him – you couldn't really tell. If anything, the look he was giving made it seem as if he thought he was an Altmer instead of the race that was so easily defeated by _humans_. "Did you really come here expecting to claim Auri El's bow?" he asked.

"Well, I was going to say yes, but how you're asking makes me wonder if I should," Lucius responded.

"Hmph. Human," he said. Agreed. "You did exactly as I had predicted in bringing your fetchin companions to me. Which, I'm sorry to say, means your usefulness is at an end."

"Do not dare to lump me in as one of _his_ companions. He's just a human," I growled. "To follow him would make me a disgrace to all Mer."

Vyrthur seemed to laugh at this for a moment before continuing on, "Prepare to die." He waved his hand and the ice surrounding us fractured. I was the first of our group to respond, sidestepping the loud clattering of the Chaurus that attempted to bite through my legs. My sword flashed downward, shattering through its body and sending the frozen head clattering across the ice. I deflected the next bite from a frozen insect before slamming my boot through its skull and punting another into the air, where Lucius immediately roasted it.

He and I glared at each other. "Too bad we make a good team," he growled, eyes narrowed. He backhanded a Chaurus jumping up from behind him towards Serana, who unleashed a fireball that roasted the insect. He smiled as he looked over at Serana. It was going to be so nice to steal his happiness away just as he felt he could win.

Our attention was immediately drawn back up to Vyrthur. "An impressive display, truly, but a wasted effort. You delay nothing save your own deaths!" he roared, surging from his seat and raising his arms towards the ceiling. There was a dull blue glow around his form for a moment as Magicka surged from within him, gripping at the frozen ceiling of the cavernous room. While massive chunks of stone and ice collapsed from the ceiling, ice all around us shattered once again, accompanied by angry hissing and growls. The Falmer frozen in the room had been awakened. "Finish. Them!"

I easily sidestepped the clumsy blow of the blind, half-frozen, and half-dead Falmer's sword. I rolled my eyes. _This_ was the best that Vyrthur could manage to set against me? The half-frozen carcasses of a Mer race that was already broken, useless, and weak? To take the Bow from him would be supremely easy, apparently. "You must think me weaker than a Skeever!" I snapped up at the Arch-Curate, twisting around the next blow and decapitating one of the Falmer. I kicked the body forward, tripping the one behind it before slamming my heel down on its skull. "You are a fool to underestimate a _true_ Mer."

Vyrthur did not respond, instead gazing placidly down at the three of us doing battle with his slaves. I scoffed, deflecting one of the incoming swords with a half-hearted movement, easily redirecting the Falmer weapon into the body of one of its peers. "I'm insulted. Really," I growled, gripping the throat of the next Falmer to attack and crushing it with my unarmed hand – things this weak did not deserve the drawing my second blade. "_Yol!_" The bodies of multiple Falmer shattered from the intense heat of the flames, and many more were injured or killed by the jagged, icy shards of their brethren flying through the air.

Vyrthur growled. "Enough!" he shouted. Noises halfway between a groan and a roar erupted into being around me. Ice Atronachs.

"Finally! A fight worthy of me!" I shouted, drawing my second weapon and jumping over the freezing blow of the golem's fist. I landed on its arm and dashed upward, dragging my second blade down and disarming the creature at the shoulder. I began to fall with the arm, spinning through the air with my swords as I did. The weapons interrupted the Magick holding the creature together and it disappeared back into Oblivion. I stumbled forward as a blast of ice hit me in the back and I fell, rolling back up to my feet. One of the other two Atronachs had collided with me as Lucius had driven it back with a wall of flames. He unleashed a beam of concentrated lightning Magick and the creature disappeared instantly, taking some of the powerful attack with it. Lucius immediately turned as it died and tossed his Dragonbone weapon at the last Atronach fighting with Serana, the weapon burying itself into the creature up to the crossguard. His whore jumped onto the hilt of the weapon, burying her own weapon deep into the creature's... 'head,' I suppose, and sending the Daedra back to Oblivion.

"I see," Vyrthur growled, turning around. "I won't let any of you ruin my centuries of preparations..."

"Surrender!" Serana shouted up at him as she tossed Lucius' weapon back to my _Jokaar_.

Vyrthur turned, eyes wild and angry. "_Death! First!" _he screamed. He raised his arms once again and screamed in rage, pulling his arms down with a sudden burst of intense Magick that I was sure could be felt far away by most mages. The floor and ceiling rumbled dangerously and I fell, the wave of Magick holding me down. I was barely able to turn my head to see Lucius and Serana stuck against the ground as well. "I suppose I'll just have to take the blood from your frozen corpses!" The air shuddered, growing painfully hot, stone and ice suddenly raining down around us. I was thrown to the side as one crashed too close, sending me flying into the wall of the cavern. My superior Mer blood and Vampiric constitution keeping me awake despite the intense pain.

As sunlight began to shine into the cavern, I forced myself to my hands and knees. Apparently it _had_ knocked me out for a moment. Just shows how powerful it was. "I see that blow took you out, hm?" Lucius asked, him and Serana standing above me. "What happened to your superior Mer strength and endurance?"

"Enough!" I snapped, stumbling up to my feet. I dusted myself off and collected my weapons.

"Let's go," Serana commanded, sprinting after the Snow Elf. I glanced at Lucius and he at me, both of us considering killing each other for a moment. Then we followed.

When we reached the top of the frozen steps and saw the elegant, sun-drenched balcony – _sun... ugh_ – we saw Serana already standing a level above above Vyrthur. "... us the bow!"

"How... _DARE_ you!?" the Snow Elf snapped back. "You dare demand me? I was the Arch-Curate of Auri-El, _girl_. I had the ears of a GOD!"

"Until the 'Betrayed' corrupted you," I supplied mockingly as I stopped next to Serana. "Yes. We've heard this pathetic story already. I for one... don't care."

"Gelebor and his kind – your kind – are easily manipulated fools," Vyrthur responded, a cruel ghost of a smile on his face. He stared up at us. "Look into my eyes. You tell me what I am."

"You're the Vampire I saw," Lucius growled. "How? Akat- Auri-El should have protected you."

"Ha! The moment that I was infected by one of my own Initiates, the Dragon turned his back on me," he said with a snarl. "I _will_ have my revenge, price be damned."

"You want to take revenge... on a god?" Serana asked, half-disbelieving. "And you _aren't_ delusional?"

"Fool! Auri-El himself may be beyond my reach, but his influence is not!" Vyrthur growled in reply, surging to his feet.

Lucius growled. "The sun. You had the bow, but you needed a Pure Blood Vampire to fulfill the Tyranny of the sun," he noted angrily. He stepped forward, clutching at the Snow Elf's throat with rage filled eyes. "You wanted to kill Serana for... revenge? Maybe you were never followed Auri-El; you were always a monster!"

"Prophecy? Ha!" Vyrthur snapped. "I created it. It was long known that the corruption of the Bow would destroy the Sun. I had the bow; I was its guardian. But Daughters of Coldharbour? Rare beasts indeed. And yet you have led not one but _two _to me. The power of her blood, of a Pure Vampire."

"You waited all this time for someone like her?" Lucius asked. "Too bad. Let's see if _your_ blood has any power to it!" He raised his weapon to stab through Vyrthur's chest.

But was suddenly thrown backwards by a gust of golden power. "Fool! Your pathetic powers are no match for the Magicks of a Falmer Arch-Curate! Perish!" he snapped, unleashing gusts of Sun-Magick. The energy burned my skin, sending Serana and me stumbling back and clutching at our faces. I fell from the upper floor, tumbling down into the shade from Vyrthur's Magick and into the forgiving arms of darkness.

"_Ri Vaaz Zol!_" Lucius' voice came, a wall of purple energy flying through the air and towards the wide eyed Vyrthur. The Arch-Curate screamed in pain as the energy hit him and fell to his knees. What Shout was that? Energy began to pour from Vyrthur's form, causing him to become a mere silhouette before us. "Surrender. Give us the bow, there is a cure out there. There are many stories about those who had been cured of Vampirism – the Nerevarine, the Hero of Kvatch. So many. Surrender."

The shadow looked up at Lucius. For a moment, I thought he would. Then... "I will claim my vengeance!" he screamed. Lucius shook his head and brought his blade down, decapitating the Snow Elf.

"I'm... so sorry," he mumbled at the body as the energy disappeared from Vyrthur's corpse. "But be glad I don't carry Black Soul Gems." The body of Vyrthur groaned, floating into the air. Lucius shook his head and brought his blade down again, causing the undead form to turn to ash.

There was a rumble and a pillar of stone, yet another wayshrine it appeared, erupted from the ground. There was a dull _ding_ as the Magick within was activated and Gelebor appeared. "So it is done," he said, frowning sadly as he walked up to his brother's body. I stared, intrigued, at the armor they wore. It looked powerful and, even better, it was Mer. Gelebor held in a sob and walked back down to the wayshrine. "This must mean that the Betrayed no longer have sway over the temple."

"No. Not the Falmer," Lucius said. He finally looked up from Vyrthur's corpse and made his way down to where the rest of us stood. "Your brother – he was a Vampire. An angry one."

Gelebror snorted. "Hm... That does explain more than the Betrayed did, I suppose," he said sadly. Then he looked up, smiling. "No. This is a good thing. Perhaps, then, the Betrayed are not the monsters that they seem. They can become... more once again?"

Serana smiled. "With your guidance," she said kindly. Ugh, brown noser.

Gelebor smiled back. "Take the bow. Please. It is obvious it was always your Fate to receive it – Auri-El's will," Gelebor replied. He turned to the shrine, palm glowing, and smiled as the glow erupted from the center of the shrine.A bow appeared from the nothingness and the Snow Elf grabbed it. I smiled, reaching out for it, but he walked past me and handed it to Lucius. "Perhaps you are right, and I can help lead my fallen brethren back to the light of Auri-El."

"I doubt it," a familiar voice said from within the shrine. I froze, terrified, as a spike of ice flew out of the shrine and ran Gelebor through. Lucius caught the weakling's body and fell to his knees, holding Gelebor up and uselessly channeling healing Magick into the elf.

"Stay with me!" he shouted at Gelebor, wasting his energy.

"Promis me...you'll find a way," the Knight-Paladin begged. "Promise me I will not be the last of my kind to die..."

Lucius choked on his words. Finally, he made an unkeepable promise that only fools and the weakhearted make. "Of course," he said, letting the Magick in his hands die. He slowly lowered the Knight-Paladin to the ground and wrapped the Bow around his houlders. "Talos and Anu guide you."

Then my opposite's gaze drifted upward, filled with unabated hate. "Dwemer," he growled.

"One and only," she responded as she stepped out of the shrine, twin spheres of Magick in her hands. She smiled in a way that sent terrified shivers down _my_ spine. "Now. How about coming with me, Luv?"


	49. The Bow of Auri-El:Beast in the Chantry

_**Jul**_

**Ayleid**

The Lord Trainer stood beside me, hand on my shoulder, as we gazed down at the milling group of recruits – insects all who had been taken like the animals they were from those who had reared them. It was an incredibly diverse cross-section, with men and women representing Redguard, Nord, Breton, Imperial, and every possible cross-breed possible between those four. I thought I even saw a few Man-Mer bastards in the mix, though it was always hard to tell if one was actually the child of a Lord who had fallen so far as to suffer the touch a human.

"Do you see any you like?" the trainer asked from my right, pushing me towards the railing and forcing my gaze to run over each and every one of the new recruits. All of them were struggling, attacking each other as they had been told – the last few to survive would be those I chose from as my... trainee, I suppose. I would mold them much as I had been molded by the Lords and my original partner.

"Truthfully, Master? No, not yet," I replied, disdainful of the creatures far below. To consider one's life worth saving if they were not Mer? What great folly. "The group down there is all warriors, true, but you have taught me that the sword is not the only weapon. Nor the best one. None seem to have that... spark."

"Indeed. Finding humans imbued with the same Magickal fury that flows even in your veins is a... challenging prospect. I had hoped some of the halflings would hold the blood of their Mer parents, but it appears human blood is often too draining," the Lord wisely stated, his grip tightening around my clavicle. His elven gauntlets pierced my skin and that same weakened blood began to run slowly down my chest beneath my tunic. I did not move. My Lord did, however, releasing me and turning away. There was a clatter as he tossed his gauntlet away. "Bathed in human blood – worthless."

"Of course, Master," I mumbled, still examining the worthless beings in the pit. A few were dead now – insects among insects, it seemed.

"Choose one or have it chosen for you. Few of our weapons get the choice," he commanded as he continued to walk away, leaving me to glare down at them myself.

The battle below was meaningless, in the long run. Animals uselessly killing each other. Hopefully, one of power would show themselves. Likely, they would not. I am a rarity, a being of power amongst the insects. No, Mer, true, but like an Alpha amongst beasts. I watched one of my potential partners fall to a clumsy dagger blow and scoffed.

I hoped to get one of the younger ones – I had been brought in as a child and was stronger for it. However, I doubted that would happen. The young ones often die – again, I am a rare weapon.

Child after child fell – no. I mean, drone after drone fell to the bestial rage of their companions, their souls fading away to the nothingness to which human souls departed. Mer who fell entered Aetherius, at least until their immortality was regained. Men? Nothing returns to nothing.

That was when something caught my eye. A Redguard girl, about my age. She was standing with her back to a fallen rival who was clutching at their severed hand. But she had no weapon. She stood _between_ the Nord man who had the knife that had done it and his former victim. I raised my hand to my chin and watched with interest. "What are you planning, girl?"

The Nord and the Redguard began shouting at each other, incoherent among the din of the battles raging around them and the resulting screams from said battles. The Nord slashed at the woman suddenly, but she merely sidestepped the blow and backed away. Quick. But she did not counter. Why? The Nord slashed at her again, his focus on his prey all but forgotten. He slashed again. Air. Again. Air. Again. Air, yet again. He could not harm the girl.

By this point, they had gotten a distance away from the injured insect. The Nord was becoming increasingly erratic in his movements, angered by his sheer inability to kill this one girl. It was a little entertaining, truthfully. More entertaining, though, was his decision to turn and run from her. His sudden reversal stunned the Redguard, who stood open to an attack as he ran. But no attack came for her; the Nord instead rushed towards his former prey and buried his blade in the insect's skull.

And then came the _most_ interesting part. The Redguard screamed in rage and I felt something I hadn't expected. _Power_. Raw Magickal energy erupted from the woman's skin, bolts of energy flying around her. One struck the floor near me, sending huge shards of wood erupting upwards and burying splinters in my arms. I paid little attention, just enough to send a healing spell down my body to get rid of the minor wounds. My eyes were locked, transfixed on the young Redguard as the energy continued to whip around her. It shifted to a blazing red as the energy continued to run down her arms and to her hands, concentrating in the channels of power.

And then she released it. The entire pit was immediately bathed in bright, burning flames. The screams became a single, unified chorus as the Magicka turned to fire from the woman's skin, charring the bodies of all the survivors. As they slowly roasted, one could hear the faint _pops_ of their eyes exploding, boiling from the inside. It was – I... And just like that, they all died. Painfully, slowly as they were burned alive by the steady stream – no, ocean of flames. "Her," I told the Lord nearest me. "I will take _her_."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I can truthfully say that I had not been prepared for the ferocity of Dwemer's assault. It came as a striking realization that she had underestimated us during our last duel with her, and had paid the price for her folly. Now, however, she knew what she was getting into. Beams of pure Lightning erupted from her palms, crashing through the walls where we had been standing just moments before. I thought I had seen the extent of her power when she had toyed with me as I had found Dexion, but no. She was far beyond what I had ever considered possible with Magick.

As the rubble exploded from the ceiling of the once frozen over chantry, the woman quickly shifted the nature of the power emanating from her. Golden energy lanced out from her fingertips and I rushed from where I stood, barely in time to avoid the huge stone that crashed into the ground where I had stood. But even as I did, I was surrounded by pain. Bolts of arcing lightning flowed across my skin from the floor and I _screamed_. When had she found the time to cast a rune during her assault?

"I have to say, I didn't expect you to perform so well against me last time. You were tired, weakened from your fight.. But somehow you three and that old man managed to prevail against me," Dwemer spat, the beams of lightning pouring over the ground once again. I regained my senses just in time to jump out of one's path and save my life. I had no clue how the others were faring, though – given that I was of superior Mer blood – I doubted it was any better. "So now you have my full attention."

"Great. I have too much attention; give it to someone else!" Lucius joked over the storm. His voice was pained, however – Gelebor's death seemed to have affected him. Odd, seeing as he could only have met the Snow Elf for a mere moment. Though, he was weak in that he tried to form bonds with any he came across, regardless of their weaknesses.

"Oh, Luv, you'll be next," Dwemer threatened and I realized that she was making sure he would survive. As I jumped over another beam, I noticed that one of the Lightning streams was dedicated to both Serana and myself. The other, solely to Lucius. She considered him the true threat, hm? Then I would show her just how foolish that was. "After all, you gave that _whorish bitch_ the cloak? I'll have to punish you for that one." That gave me an idea...

"Whore!" I hissed at Serana as I made my way near her, drawing an iresome glare from her. "I will provide you with an... opportunity." The woman grunted in what I hoped was affirmation, because we were soon split up by the steady stream of Lightning.

Dwemer's Magicka reserves were, to say the least, astounding. Any other Mage would have already wasted their power twice over in her circumstance, yet here she stood – a Vampire in the blinding sun no less – waging continuous battle against two of the greatest warriors in all of Tamriel... and Serana, I suppose.

I rushed forward at my earliest opportunity, as the energy swerved towards Serana. I drew a throwing dagger from my hip and sent it flying towards our opponent. Dwemer's gaze turned towards me just in time, and she brought her hand up to point directly at the knife. The energy in her hand shifted as she did so, the same gold appearing to grasp the knife that was too close to be completely annihilated by her lightning. The gold angled the path of the blade, deflecting it over her shoulder. This left her open, of course, to the spike of ice that crashed through her leg. She screamed in pain, both streams of energy dissipating as she fell to her knee.

Golden energy flowed down her body, shattering the icy spear and basically rebuilding her leg. What manner of beast was she that she could do this? I advanced on her, both blades ready to quickly behead her. "Back away!" Lucius shouted, drawing my attention. I did not hesitate – in this moment, not even I would have lied to him. I did as he had suggested just in time, barely making my way outside a pillar of flames that erupted from the ground around Dwemer. I glanced over at Lucius. A moment later, and I would have been ash. A sorely tempting prospect to the human, I'm sure.

"Fine, then," Dwemer said, quiet and menacing, as the flames died down. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. I'm not very good at controlling myself; I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep myself from turning you, Luv. It would be better if Lady Lamae did that herself. That's to say nothing of the possibility that I _kill you._"

It was my turn to understand. "Kill her now!" I screamed, drawing another knife and letting it fly. Lightning and fire flew at her as well. The knife buried itself in her shoulder and the spells exploded around her. Too late, it appeared. The knife fell from her skin as it turned to a bloody crimson, the Magicka was swiftly absorbed by the power that now emanated from the Vampire. I let slip the rare prayer. "Divines help us..."

The facade of the woman before us began to shudder and crack, contorting wildly as the creature within began to make itself known. Pain flashed across the few visible features of Dwemer as a wing tore its way free of her flesh, erupting in bloody gore. This was nothing like my own transformations. This was... animalistic. Savage. The next wing exploded from her shoulder as well, tearing skin away. The two flapped once and large flaps of skin drifted to the ground before melting away in blood that began to crawl back to her writhing form. Long, bladed claws and even longer fingers ripped their way out of where her bony appendages had been moments before. Her spine lengthened suddenly and her skull loudly _cracked_ as it rearranged itself to fit its new needs. As the red film slowly was absorbed back into her skin, there was a dull, horrifying rumble... "Hungry... So... Hungry..."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I had thought our fight difficult when it was Dwemer we had been united against. Now, however, it appeared that she was merely the warm up. The Vampire that had replaced her was even more dangerous, moving between the three of us like a bolt of gray lightning. Even as I raised my blade to catch her claws, I was already being tossed aside like a ragdoll. It appeared that my three allies were in much the same position.

I rolled to the side, barely escaping being impaled by the claws that rushed down at me. "You weren't lying – you can't control yourself," I said as I realized that blow had been intended to _kill_ me. The Vampire merely shrieked in reply, stopping for a moment before jumping at me and trying to bury its teeth in my throat.

This time, however, I was able to raise my sword quickly enough, holding the weapon in her jaws and blocking the probably life-threatening blow. The flames that came into being across her flesh did little to dissuade her from continuing her attempt on my life, instead causing her to place the full brunt of her weight atop me. I grunted in pain as the points of Auri-El's Bow jabbed into my back, somehow even causing pain _through_ my Daedric plate. "Dwemer – Tanyin, please!" I growled, barely holding off the attack.

The creature's response: "Hungry..."

"Fine then," I snapped, pulling my feet up to plant them on Dwemer's face. "Eat this!" I lashed out, extending my body completely and rolling onto my feet – which, let me just say, is both painful and incredibly difficult in heavy plate armor – even while I launched the Vampire away. She dashed to the ground, already on to her next target and trying to rip Thera's throat out with her teeth. I ran towards the Vampire, only to be inconvenienced as it was already attacking Serana, who was across the courtyard.

"We need to make our way together!" I shouted, sprinting for the center of the courtyard where Gelebor's body still remained. I brought my sword up in anticipation, slamming its hilt into Dwemer's jaw as she suddenly appeared as if from thin air. She stumbled back with a hideous roar and I felt myself get thrown away again, tumbling down the icy stairs and back into the ruined chantry.

"Gods above, that should have killed you," a familiar voice said from above me. I groaned in pain and looked up into the face of the god once again. He looked the same, though there were things I hadn't noticed before. There was a long, thin scar across his throat and his lips were crisscrossed with thin, almost unnoticeable scars as well. He extended a hand towards me, which I ignored, and he shrugged as I pushed myself up to my feet.

"Wh-What are you doing here?" I asked, gasping in pain and falling back to my knees. I think something in my body was broken – though I couldn't quite tell what. Everything, maybe? I channeled Magick down my arms and into my body, but stopped immediately. It was only making the pain worse.

"Will you take my help, _now_?" he asked.

I glared up at him, earning nothing but an amused, wry smile. "I can wait an eternity. Given your wounds, I'd say you've got five minutes."

"Please," I growled, nowhere near meaning it. It seemed good enough for the deity, however, as he began to channel primordial Magick through me. My bones and tissue snapped and sewed back into place with a, somehow pleasurable, pop. I took a breath, surprised by how deep it went. I must have had a crushed lung. "What are you doing here?"

"You not know any other words to this song and dance?" the god asked, seemingly ignoring me.

"I need to know!" I snapped. I turned back to the stairs. "If you won't tell me, I have to go back up there to save someone I hate and – much more importantly – someone I love." I began to walk up the stairs when I received no response.

"At the expense of someone else you love," the unknown god said quietly. I stopped moving and let my head fall.

"Yes. It's hard to give up love," I said, turning to glare at him over my shoulder.

"That's why you want to kill her. If Serana does it, you're afraid you'll resent her," the god said. My conversation with Serana from days earlier echoed in my ears – it was not only for her benefit. "And you don't want Thera to do it, because you think it _should_ be you. You brought Dwemer into this world, after all."

"It's only fair I send Tanyin out of it," I growled, finishing the thought that had been running through my mind since the fight had began. I sheathed my sword and walked back down to the god. "Help me. Please." This time I meant it with all my being.

The god cocked his head to the side, staring at me. His eyes seemed to pierce my being, questing after something hidden within. Finally, he nodded. "Akatosh isn't a big fan of us interfering in mortal business – the whole locking other planes out of Nirn and all. But a little bit of aid for a weary warrior? Well, you can't expect _me_ of all Divines to just let that go." The god reached behind his back and pulled out a small quiver made of gleaming gold.

"Elven arrows?" I asked dryly. If he was who I thought he was, there was an irony in there somewhere. "Well, never let it be said that the aid of gods is overwhelming."

"I think you'll find it to be exactly what you need," the Divine muttered with a grin. He tossed the arrows to me and I caught them in one hand, looping the quiver around my shoulders. "Sunhallowed Arrows. If you don't want to hurt your woman up there, I wouldn't aim them at the sun."

My eyes widened slightly and I gingerly, but quickly as I could, unlooped Auri-El's Bow from my shoulders. I looked down at the weapon, its elegant curves and incredible, Divine craftsmanship. "You want me to – " I looked up. He was already gone. Well, this little _Deus ex Machina_ was already more than I could have hoped for, so I wasn't going to waste it. I nocked one of the arrows on the Bow, the weapon humming appreciatively as the bow and arrow became one, then made my way up the stairs.


	50. The Bow of Auri-El:Death of the Past

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

When I made my way up the stairs, the battle was not going any better. Worse, one could say. Much worse. Both Serana and the Thalmor bitch had also shed their outer skins and taken on the gray form of the Molag Bal born beast within. It is terrifying to see one pureblood vampire. But Three? Divines, two of them were on my side and I still felt like running away from the three supernatural predators of all mortals. Instead, I marched forward and readied the Bow, trying to figure out which of the identical Vampires was Dwemer.

I got a momentary lock on her when two of the Vampires slammed their claws into the chest of the other. As the third Vampire stumbled backwards, bloody red marks on its chest already visibly sewing shut, I let one of the Sunhallowed arrows fly. The golden arrow, as soon as it left the Bow's grasp, seemed to glow, the metal exuding and creating light as bright as the Sun's while it rushed towards Dwemer. The Vampire shrieked, turning towards the whistling arrow and disappearing into a cloud of red mist. The arrow passed through the red smoke and, as it exited, the Vampire shrieked in rage and pain. Dwemer's entire body began to smoke as it fell to its knees, the arrow clattering, dull and unglowing, against the stone. The Sun Magick that the arrow had contained was drained, used up to injure and reconstitute the Vampire from the mist.

The Vampiric Dwemer floated upward as she recovered, rage filled eyes fixed on me. She quickly disappeared, a streak of gray moving unbelievably fast right at me. I saw the other two Vampires try to stand between us, but they were both quickly knocked aside by Dwemer. When she slammed into my body, it was like getting kicked in the chest by a horse. I barely even kept my grip on the Bow after that first contact, but it only became more difficult when a claw wrapped around my neck and began to strangle me. It got even worse as Dwemer began to slam me into the stone and ice as hard as she could, my head snapping around wildly and slamming into the solid walls. If it weren't for the Magick I was sending through my body even as it happened, I would have died. Instead, my vision just began to tunnel, the world fading away to blackness and my ears filling with the noise of rapids as I began to slip away to unconsciousness.

"Stop," I groaned, raising my hand up to rest against the sinewy gray one holding me in the air. Dwemer cocked her side to the head for a moment, her shark-like orbs of empty black glaring pitilessly into my own eyes. Then she brought her hand back again, ready to slam me into the wall. I wouldn't have been able to take another hit, so I was incredibly grateful when another flash of gray slammed into Dwemer from the side, causing her grip on my to disappear and the two Vampires to crash over the balcony.

"Get up. If you let her kill you, I won't get to," Thera snapped above me, flipping me over and pouring a red potion into my mouth. It burned as it went down, stitching back together any of the damage in my body that I hadn't yet fixed. I gasped in pain, pulling as much air into my lungs as I could. There was a sharp sting on my face as the elf slapped me across the face. "Get up, we have a vampire to kill."

I growled but did as she suggested – at least, I told myself it was a suggestion. I'm not sure I could listen to a 'command' from Thera. "So that was Serana and Dwemer?" I asked hurriedly, trying to shut out my panic while I rushed to the shattered stone where the two bat-like Vampiresses had tumbled over the edge. I looped Auri-El's bow over my shoulder and turned back to the bitch. "We have to get down there and help her."

The elf scoffed. "How do you plan on doing that?" she asked, arms crossed over her chest. "Because I'm not flying you down."

I narrowed my eyes. "Never expected you to," I murmured, turning around again and stepping up onto the ledge. "See you at the bottom. _Feim!_"

I took a step forward, my blue, ethereal body plummeting downward towards the crater where one Vampire – Dwemer, if her savagery was any indication – was atop the other, slamming claw after claw into her opponent's face. "Serana!" I cried out, looping the bow from my back so I could be ready to attack as soon as I hit the ground. Which I did not a moment too soon, even as I rolled back to my feet and pulled an arrow from the quiver, my body returned to its normal state. The arrow flew from Aure-El's bow, again glowing as it flew. The Vampire turned and seemed to grin, picking up Serana and placing her between the arrow and itself.

"NO!" I shouted, reaching out with Telekinetic Magick and pulling arrow back as sharply as I could. It reversed course on the spot and I breathed a sigh of relief. Until that same arrow pierced my shoulder. I screamed in pain as the Daedric armor was pierced and splinters of its ebony metal perforated my flesh. The bow dropped from my hand and I fell to my back, writhing and clutching at my shoulder.

I heard a thud as a heavy gray body crashed onto the ground beside me. I tried to turn to see Serana, but screamed in pain when my shoulder took any weight. From above came a low growl and the sound of blood rushing like a river. "Well, looks like I _can_ control myself," Dwemer said, boots clacking against the stone as she returned to human form. She crouched down to sit on top of my chest, placing some of her weight onto my right shoulder with her hand. "You risked your life for this insect? Well, I guess you aren't Ayleid anymore, Luv."

"Ha! Been trying to tell you," I growled as I became accustomed to the fiery pain in my arm. I gasped when she dug her hand into the hole in my arm. I was thankful that the arrow had passed cleanly through, but it really hurt. "So why don't you _leave. Me. Alone._"

"Well, you may not _be_ Ayleid, but I'm sure I can bring him back to life," Dwemer snarled, her other hand resting on my throat and gripping tight enough to make me gurgle painfully for a moment. Then her fingers loosened and she ran her hand up to my cheek. "Then everything will be okay again."

"Tanyin... it was never okay," I muttered, shaking my head to get her hand from my face. I shuddered as a wave of coldness began to rush through my arm and chest. I turned my head towards Serana, ignoring the pain of the muscles in my neck and shoulder as I did so. "Not with you."

Dwemer's gaze followed mine. "But with her it is?" she asked. She scoffed and stood up, gracefully pulling my sword from its hilt and then slamming her foot into my arm as she did so. I screamed in paralyzing pain, unable to stop Tanyin from moving from me and over to Serana. "You know, I think that this is ideal. A sword of flames. Twice you'll be responsible for those you love _burning_."

"Don't you dare!" I screamed, somehow forcing myself to my feet. Dwemer laughed and backhanded me back to the ground. "Please."

"You know, I've always wanted to see you groveling," someone said before Dwemer could reply. Then her body jolted forward and she stumbled, a glowing, golden arrow tip protruding from her arm. Dwemer screamed in pain as a stream of golden flames began to stream up her arm and my sword clattered against the ground. "But only to me."

"Ah, Traitor! I was wondering where you were," Dwemer snapped as she ran tore the arrow from her arm and tossed it away.

"Oh, I wouldn't run from a fight like this," Thera replied, as she restrung Auri-El's bow. I noticed my quiver around her shoulders and realized it must have come off during the fight, somehow. "I wanted a chance to kill you, after all."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

The Bow of Auri-El had a... peculiar weight to it. It pulled against my grip, as if it were trying to escape me. This mystical pull was bad enough that I wasn't able to hit Dwemer's heart, instead puncturing her arm at the wrist. Unlike most of her other wounds, this one hadn't yet healed, so I took it to mean that the bow's Magick was of the type from which Vampires had no defense. Expected, I suppose, and further implying its ability to kill even Lamae herself if I was lucky. "I doubt that this will be the chance you were searching for," Dwemer growled from above the battered forms of my temporary allies. "He is better a thousand times over, even as this insect Lucius."

I scoffed to hold in my indignant rage. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't blame a slave for being unable to see the facts of the matter. That said, which one of us hit you with the bow?"

Dwemer did not respond, instead rushing towards me with a fireball in either hand. I laughed and twisted between the attacks, pulling the bow close and slamming it into Dwemer's face as she came close. The bow, it would seem, had an added benefit. While it had only injured my opponent, that injury was just as Magickal as the weapon, slowing her while we fought.

Dwemer's head snapped back as my fist met it, blood streaming from her broken nose. She turned out of the blow and summoned a pair of daggers to her hands, slashing them at me. I blocked the attacks with the bow before pulling an arrow from its quiver and slamming it into Dwemer's shoulder. This arrow didn't have the same effect as the first, but I was able to bury it deep enough into her arm that it became useless. "What happened, you're moving like a human!" I mocked. I flipped backwards, kicking Dwemer in the face, and landed far enough away that the bow became a viable option for attack again.

I quickly nocked another arrow and aimed it once more, trying to compensate for the continual tug. I shot the arrow and it flew wide. "Dammit," I growled, pulling out another of the arrows. This one was on target, though it was knocked off course by the remaining dagger that Dwemer wielded.

"Fast enough to kill you!" Dwemer snapped, tossing the dagger at me. I shot another arrow, knocking her dagger off course before grabbing another from the quiver.

"Or perhaps not," I laughed, and the arrow met its mark. It flew through Dwemer's chest and she tumbled to the ground at my feet, the tip of the arrow protruding from her back. I smiled self-assuringly and began to walk past the corpse.

"I'll... kill you," she groaned, forcing herself to her knees. I froze and she grabbed my leg by the ankle. I looked down. She was barely capable of moving, but she still wasn't dead? I growled – the arrow had missed her heart, burying itself instead in her lung. It was like poison to her, the sun Magick coursing through her veins, but it wouldn't kill her.

"Let go," Lucius demanded. I looked up at him. The right arm of his armor was gone, on the ground, and he was using Magick to tear splinters of Ebony from his shoulder. Each shard shot from his body with the noise of metal dragging against bone and the _squelch_ of a void being filled by blood. He grimaced in pain each time one escaped his arm. He was staring sadly at Dwemer. "Just let go, Tanyin. Stop holding on."

"Tanyin was an insect," Dwemer growled, her grip falling weakly from my ankle. "Tanyin is dead."

"I know," Lucius replied. He stumbled forward and stopped above her, now channeling Magick through his body to heal his significant wounds. "So stop holding on, Tanyin. You died a long time ago, but you held on anyways. That was my fault, I made that happen, so I'm sorry. But now you can let go. There's something after. Tanyin, I know you're still in there."

"That insect is dead!" Dwemer shouted again. I took a step back and watched in interest. "You killed her. You _remade_ her into something better!"

"No. I killed you, I'll admit that," Lucius said, summoning a sword from oblivion into his good hand. "But you tried to hold on anyways. I'm telling you it's okay to let go. I've only ever given you pain. Sadness. This world hurts you, and it's time for you to rest."

"N...no," Dwemer said, eyes tearing up. "I... I won't."

"Tanyin... I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?" Lucius asked as he raised the summoned weapon above his head. I smiled, enjoying watching him forced to kill someone he loved so much. Oh, he did love her; that same look on his face that he got when looking at Serana was present as he looked down at the Redguard. "Please?"

"I..." Dwemer's head fell. "I do."

Then the blade rushed down and her head was separated from her body, the sun Magick present in the remains already causing the head and body to turn to ash. Lucius was silent for some time, unmoving. The summoned weapon faded away naturally, dying as its time ran out. As the last bits of Dwemer turned to ash, he whispered, "_Su Dun."_ A breeze blew past us and carried the ashes away to spread across the world. Then he turned back to Serana's form on the ground. "Bring me some of Gelebor's blood – she needs some."

I frowned. "Do not order me," I hissed, though I would go to do as he asked anyways. I couldn't risk my only chance at taking the power of Auri-El falling away into death, even if it would just _kill_ Lucius. "I will not take kindly to that if you try to do it again." I then looped the bow around my shoulders, taking what was rightfully mine, and walked to save my pawn from death.


	51. The First:The Final Requiem

**AN: Sorry this one is shorter than usual, but... time for another setup chapter! Yay... But hey, Lamae and Kindred Judgement come after this, so we'll be charging headlong into the final third of the story pretty soon. **

**Hey. Thanks for reading. You rock.**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stared up at the top of the tent from my bed – an actual bed that Elisif had sent just for me for this battle. I had tried to refuse it, but Hadvar had told me doing so would be somewhat insulting. "The Queen sent it for you, Luc," he had said. Hadvar then had glanced over my shoulder before winking at me. "Get some use out of it." I had glanced over my same shoulder – Serana was speaking with one of my housecarls. I blushed as what Hadvar meant came to my mind.

Now, as I said, I stared up at the top of the tent, my fingers tangled in Serana's hair. She was asleep, her head resting in the crook of my shoulder and one arm draped across my chest. Her breathing was steady, warm and constant against my neck. It was... nice. This moment of quiet where all I had to do was appreciate what I had. Serana murmured in her sleep, tossing slightly; I stroked her head and she sighed, drifting back to sleep.

_Tomorrow_, I thought with a heavy sigh. This moment of happiness and relief was merely the calm before the storm, and I would soon be standing shoulder to shoulder with enemies once again, ready to betray them, betray my honor in the name of the greater good. For now I got the chance to appreciate what was easily one of the best moments in my life, the cool skin of Serana against my own.

"You're not very good at sleeping at night, you know," Serana suddenly said. I turned slowly to look down at her. Serana's golden eyes stared at me dryly. "And that's coming from a Vampire."

"Hey, you slept for what? Ten thousand years? Excuse me if I'm not quite as in practice as you are," I retorted. Serana snorted in laughter and nuzzled her head into my neck, sighing contentedly. "You seem happy. I'll take that as a compliment."

"Mmm," Serana moaned, "don't push your luck." She patted my shoulder and curled her leg around my own. "It's not nearly attractive as you think."

I scoffed and brought my cheek down to Serana's head, breathing in her scent. "Oh, really?" I asked.

"Well..." Serana admitted.

I smiled. "There's something else, isn't there?" I asked, playing with her hair absently again. "You've been thinking about it for a while, whatever it is."

"You know me so well," Serana said.

"Well, it's not hard when I've always got an eye on you," I admitted, shrugging. Her head bobbed up and down with my shoulder. "I don't want this to go to your head, but it's kind of hard to take them off of you."

"Flattery will get you somewhere," Serana told me, planting a quick kiss on my jawline. "But yes, I do have something on my mind.."

"Septim for your thoughts?"

"How generous," she deadpanned. "Tell me, how much are you worth right now?"

"Too much," I muttered. I leaned away from her and pouted. "Come on, tell me?"

"Okay, okay," Serana groaned. "No need to beg. I've been thinking about... us."

"Oh?" I asked, a chill running down my spine. Since when were those words _ever_ a good thing. What a time to spring this on me. "Hhhhhhow so?"

"Well... I mean, I'm an immortal and you... aren't," Serana said, pushing herself up onto her elbow. She sighed. "That's not ideal."

"I'll survive!" I said, surging upward and holding her shoulder.

Serana examined my face, then began to laugh uncontrollably. "What?" I asked. That only made her laugh louder and harder. "Serana, w-what are laughing about? What? _Whhaaaaat?_"

"You are taking this the _wrong_ damn way, Luc," she said. She leaned forward and planted a long kiss on my lips, pulling away slowly. "This isn't... wow, right now? That would be... terrible. Are you an idiot?"

"The answer has yet to be determined," I muttered. I smiled sheepishly. "But... then what?"

"Luc, I'm thinking about _not_ being a Vampire," Serana said, smiling. My heart skipped a beat and Serana's face soured. "_Well_?"

"I just want you to be sure," I said. I clenched my fist around the blankets. "I mean, I approve, but... Serana I'm in this for you. If you want this, want it for yourself."

Serana sighed and shook her head. "Oh, you idiot," she groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "That's already how I've been thinking of it."

"Hey, don't give me glowing red angry eyes," I said mockingly. "This is a serious topic, and the last time _I_ brought it up you nearly tore my throat out and drained me of blood. And we were already sleeping together by that point. Forgive me if I'm just... making sure you want this."

Serana sighed and leaned against my shoulder. "I know. And you were pretty close to getting killed last time, I'll give you that," she said, a laugh in her voice. "But, Luc, I think this is the best option for me. The Bow needs _my_ blood to be tainted, so my father is going to keep coming after me until he succeeds. Or if he dies, other Vampires will keep trying. If we're playing the odds, across of all of time, it's bound to catch up with me. Especially when you're no longer around to help me stumble through this."

"As I do," I agreed.

"Yeah. You're _so_ helpful," she said, somewhere between sarcastically and sincerely. "I just don't want to worry that everyone will be coming for me forever. And besides, you've kind of rubbed off on me; blood doesn't taste good anymore, coffins are not comfortable anymore, I sleep at night. Divines above, I don't even worship Molag Bal anymore! I think any one of those would be reason enough to turn in my Vampire membership."

I smiled. "Well, then I'll do everything I can to help," I told her. I kissed the top of her head, then placed my chin where my lips had just been. "Being Archmage and a Vampire hunter, I might... 'know an elf who knows a guy.' If you'll have me, I'll go with you to Morthal as soon as this battle is over. I have a few favors I can call in; we can ask Jarl Idgrod if the rumors about her Court Wizard are true, if he actually _has_ figured out the secret to curing Vampirism."

Serana laughed. "What?" I asked.

"Curing Vampirism. In a way, it is exactly what Bal hates the most and loves the most," Serana explained. I glanced at her quizzically. "Dominating the god of Domination?"

I nodded. "But who cares about him?" I asked, twisting suddenly so Serana was beneath me on the bed. "We're the only ones here, after all."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"You understand what I have asked you to do?" I asked my Thrall, exerting my will on the slave's mind.

"Yes," the warrior moaned, his eyes glazing over.

"Good, then go," I commanded, gesturing with my hand so it would leave.

"What was that about?" Harkon asked, approaching from across the empty war camp. The armies were amassed, the artifacts passed out, and our spies information confirmed. It was the day that our war with Lamae Bal would begin and end. All that remained was for Lucius, Serana, and me to group together with the Bow of Auri-El and our strike team so we could make our way towards finding and killing the First Vampire herself.

"A backup plan," I responded after a momentary pause, my eyes still watching the former Dawnguard soldier stumbling away. He was a nobody, I had made sure. But one who showed promise. He would not be missed, but he would finish his job and taint the group's reputation simultaneously. "Should one of our goals not meet with... complete success."

"Clever," Harkon said with a smile. "There is always a place for initiative in the Court."

I rolled my eyes internally. "Thank you, Lord Harkon," I replied outwardly. I turned and bowed my head. "You honor me."

"Are you prepared for the coming battle?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Physically and mentally? Indeed. I have also returned to the battle camp in order to finish acquiring all of my equipment. A war against Lamae deserves my fullest attention and greatest strength. Leather armor is not what our first interaction in months calls for. I had some armor delivered by a fool who believes me to be allied with the Stormcloaks, a great blacksmith. I plan on using it during the coming battle."

"Well then, hurry. The scouts have told us she and her army approach. Her host is much larger than we believed, though with you and the Butcher of Skingrad at the helm that should not be a problem," Harkon explained. He paused. "It will not be a problem, will it?"

I hesitated. "We will be successful," I said finally. I turned to leave and collect my armor and weapons. "Though I hope you understand that there are two possible outcomes in the event of our victory. We are victorious and we take the Bow _and_ Serana, as we planned. Or we succeed in only taking one of them. In that event, we have only one choice."

"What would that be?" Harkon asked.

I smiled and looked over my shoulder at Harkon. "We take your daughter. Lucius would ignore everything that Isran commanded. Essentially, if we capture your daughter, we capture the bow." I turned and walked from Harkon, confident that my words had been successful in planting my plans in Harkon's mind. "Make no mistake, we will most likely only capture one of the two, and I am sure that the Dawnguard are considering a betrayal the same as us. The bow will be under tight guard. Basically, Lord Harkon, if we do not capture your daughter, I doubt we will ever capture the Bow either."


	52. The First:Arkay's Reply

**AN: I almost planned on posting this on April 19****th** **2016\. Chapter 52, exactly 52 weeks after posting the first chapter of the story. I just almost couldn't resist the symmetry. I know. That's pretty bad, huh? I know, but I had finals, then spring break. By the time I got around to writing and finishing this up, it was already almost April. I thought, what's the harm in a few more days? But then I finished it and I thought "I'm going to beat that damn 1 per week average!" Also, this chapter is a fair bit longer than most chapters. So that's a bonus.**

**To respond to one point, I want to say that I agree, UndeadMonkey8 – knowing that the Vampire Cure takes only a couple seconds and has no adverse effects, I think that it would be better for Luc and Serana to head for Morthal as soon as possible. Unfortunately, they don't know how easy it is. They both know Luc wouldn't leave Serana's side for anything if she was hurt, not even to fight Lamae, and they're worried that the process would injure her for at least a short while. She's older than anyone except Lamae, by this point, so that's a lot of magickal energy to undo. Since the scouts have found out that Lamae is close, they decided to postpone it – they'll either be dead or victorious, in their minds, after all.**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Are you almost – oh!" Serana said as she entered our war tent. She smirked at me and placed one hand on her hip. "Looking good."

I smiled and turned around. I was prepared for war, it was true. I was clad in pure ebony armor, cutting an impressive silhouette even in the black of night. Not only did it mark me as the Lord-Commander of the Ebon Warriors – all of whom were present as commanders across the battlefield – but the deep black of the armor had the added benefit of keeping me difficult to see even for Vampiric night vision, a fact I had thankfully checked with Serana. Across my back was strapped the Staff of Magnus, the weapon hungering for the intense Magickal energy approaching, and Dawnbreaker, my backup plan for if things got hopeless. There was a folded up Dwemer crossbow and explosive bolts for the weapon strapped to my belt. My Dragnonbone blade was at my hip, glimmering slightly with its flame enchantment. I wore a powerful artifact that I'd recovered during my travels as a helmet, the Ancient Dragon Priest mask named for its one time master – Konahrik, or the aptly translated, _Warlord_. "You don't look bad yourself," I told Serana, causing the Vampire to blush.

She had four differently enchanted Daedric daggers strapped to her back, two with the handles peeking out from over her shoulders and the other two handles hanging above her hips to form an 'X' across her back. She'd been insistent that she wear Dawnguard armor I enchanted, seeing as the metal Isran had used already held a resistance to all of a Vampire's skills. And, to make sure she would not be confused for an enemy during our betrayal of the Vampires – and their probable betrayal of us.

I had the Companions nearby, scouring the surrounding area for assassins and secret armies, but I doubted they would find all of them. They were under orders to just look for them and only attack if they had a way to do so without risking their own lives. Knowing Aela and the others, they would attack anyways. I had to talk to them about that. "Delphine says you're slow," Serana said, crossing her arms, causing my mother's cloak to rustle on her shoulders. "I'm inclined to agree."

"I'm sorry I had to enchant a new set of ebony armor I received today, Serana. Not all of us can just throw on something that was prepared weeks ago," I huffed, reaching up to remove Konahrik. It slid off easily to reveal my smirk. "As for Delphine, I told her not to come. But noo, 'The Dragonborn must always be protected by the Dragonguard in times of war.' Now that the Dragonguard has more than two members, that is."

"Yes, J'zargo appreciates you got him to join. Is there any way J'zargo can you get moving, though?" a Khajiti accented voice asked, pushing his way through the tent. He was staring at me dryly from beneath his Blade's helm before he sighed and turned to Serana. "He has been this slow since we were both initiates in the College. J'zargo is glad some things do not change, though J'zargo wishes this had."

"Ha. I'm on my way," I replied, walking out of the tent with the two.

The war camp was bright with the light of dozens of burning torches, their glows casting ethereal lights and highlighting the stark divide between the bright and warm Dawnguard camp and the section of the allied forces owned and maintained by the Vampires. This area where dark and light met was where the strike team dedicated to hunting down and killing Lamae Bal was scheduled to meet.

The mortal side of things was already present. Besides Delphine, J'zargo, Serana, and myself, there were a few others. Jordis was there, ever the loyal bodyguard. Vilkas was also present, talking with Brelyna, our unit's healer mage, about sticking close to him. Agmaer, the man who had joined the Dawnguard with me, was listening to Ingjard, one of the stronger Dawnguard members. The unit was a formidable team, and each knew the secondary mission and its signal down to a 'T.'

Hadvar was also present, though only as an aide and bodyguard to the newly minted General Rikke, or rather General until she met with Tullius next. Since Tullius himself was still on his way back from meeting with the other Generals to talk about the future leadership of the Empire, Rikke had stepped up to fill his position. She had a sharp mind, and had helped the General with many of the greatest tactical victories of the Civil War. The war council was in good hands with Rikke at the helm. It had been Oblivion forcing that through, since both Isran and Harkon demanded they lead. I'd managed, knowing Harkon would believe Rikke would put less defenses around the Bow after the battle and Isran just being happy she was my personal friend. Honestly, doing that made me think that we had a real chance – I'd already managed the impossible once, what was once more?

On a table that rested on the edge of the shadows and firelight was the Bow and its quiver of Sunhallowed arrows. The decision remained with us as to who would carry the weapon into battle, a decision that would have to wait until the damnable Bitch and her Vampires showed up. "I can't believe you think _I'm_ slow," I grumbled at Delphine. The Blade shot me a look, but she agreed. "I was practically ready yesterday compared to the Vampires."

"And it still wouldn't have been enough," Thera said from the shadows. I turned and glared as she walked towards us, followed closely by her own squadron of Vampires.

Thera herself was dressed in full Dragonscale armor, a caplet draped over her left shoulder. There were two Daedric swords on her hips, with another two crossed over her back. She looked prepared for war, as did we all. "Fear not, the true warriors have arrived."

"Whatever would we have done without you?" I growled, crossing my plated arms over my chest. "Be happier? Oh, I know, _not in this position_!"

"Ah, the answer to the question of _who_ brought the pieces of Lamae's body together matters little," Thera said, grinning at me from beneath her Dragonscale helmet. I snarled at her and thought about drawing my sword, only to hold myself back – we needed the Vampires at that moment. To destroy a threat to the gods, I would ally myself even with _her_. "She's everyone's problem, now."

"Which is why Agmaer will be carrying the Bow," I said simply, drawing angry growls and yells from the Vampires. "He's the best option. I won't let _you_ carry it, you won't let _me_ carry it. I doubt any of the Vampires except you could account for the Bow's resistance against your kind, so they're all out of the question. Agmaer is the best archer besides either of us, given how proficient as he's become with projectile weapons as of late."

"I... Thanks, Luc, but do you really think this -"

I turned to the Dawnguard member. "You're ready and this is what you're best at. Vilkas is needed to protect Brelyna, and he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn anyway."

"Hey!.. Yeah..." the former werewolf grumbled.

"Ingjard is better at close quarters combat than you are, so she'll be needed to keep Lamae and her legions busy while you line up your shots. Delphine isn't willing to leave my side under any circumstance, even if its what's best, so she's a no. Same with Jordis. J'Zargo is a mage who hasn't touched a bow in his life. And Serana has the same problem that the other Vampires do. You're the best option, save myself or Thera," I explained. This did nothing to calm the young man's nerves, so I walked over to him and placed one gloved hand on his shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just stay close to Ingjard and everything will be all right."

Agmaer opened his mouth to protest, but shut it and nodded. I turned back to Thera. "As you can see, he's the only option," I said, marching towards her. I slammed my hands onto the table on either side of the Bow and glared at Thera across the divide between shadow and light. "And the worst part is that you know it."

Thera snarled. "Yes. I suppose I do," she said, glaring over at Agmaer. Her eyes were filled with hunger. "How unfortunate; I had hoped to hold the Bow in my hand one more time before you handed it over at the end of the battle." She smiled, dancing around the inevitable betrayals that we both intended to enact against the other. While they were obvious to both sides and any observers, to speak of it would be to break some kind of sacred rule. Our alliance was fragile, so allowing it to live even through denial of our own trickery was necessary.

I narrowed my eyes. Something was wrong – she was not the kind to merely listen to logic. She would deny the facts of the matter until we were all dead at Lamae's hands. "What are you up to?" I asked with eyes narrowed.

"You first, Ayleid," Thera retorted, speaking just loud enough for only me to hear. My face contorted in anger and she laughed joyfully. "Oh, don't give me that face. I'm agreeing because I must. There's no way around the fact that none of these Vampires could touch the Bow, much less use it. And he's the one of your little troop I would least mind holding what is m- ours."

Delphine narrowed her eyes and then glanced over at me. I was of a mind with her, believing firmly that Thera wasn't capable of doing anything vaguely resembling compromise. But that wasn't what was important at the moment. What remained important was that this war was about to begin. Though not until our fearless commanders decided on their last uplifting words for us. "I'm glad to see that you got this argument out of the way so easily," Rikke said, coming out from behind one of the tents on the mortal's side of the war camp. She was wearing Imperial General's armor, the metal was a golden-coated ebony with a rich, Royal Purple cape hanging over her left arm. "We can't afford petty fights amongst you all when the time for battle comes."

"Rikke," I said, bowing my head slightly. "Forgive me – General"

"Pro Tempore," Rikke corrected in the court tongue of the Empire – her official title being _General pro Tempore_, or for the time being. I was of the belief that this temporary position would only be temporary for a short while. "Though that matters little at the moment, Legate. What matters now is that we send you off, and you all understand what you are doing."

"I think I have a basic concept," Thera growled dryly, crossing her arms and glaring at the General. I wanted to tell her to be quiet, but this was about fostering our alliance. Besides, she had been one of those who helped draw up the plans, just like me, and Thera had never been one to be patient in the face of... anything, really.

"Be that as it may," Rikke said caustically, stepping past the sticky situation and continuing with what had to be done, "this is still a necessary briefing. Count Harkon and Commander Isran both are busy setting up the battle on the front lines – the distraction – so that you all will be able to make your way towards the locations that are designated. Thera and Lucius are central to the tertiary focus of this mission. They and those they designate as their personal squads will be taking in a frontal assault on Lamae Beolfag herself. Make no mistake, though you fight at the side of the two greatest warriors in Skyrim, your chances of survival in the short run are slimmest there. However, the secondary assault is the most important part of this battle. The Archer _must_ survive. Agmaer will be defended by a group of you and head out to a crow's nest in the battlefield. Should Lucius and Thera distract her well enough, Agmaer will be able to tag Lamae with an arrow. From what the Dragonborn have said, this is the only way to injure her permanently. One shot should be enough, but we won't be banking on that. Agmaer, hit her as often as possible so we can be sure. Only once Lamae has been tagged by at least one Sunhallowed arrow will the assault team begin with the primary focus of the battle. I expect you to survive, but barring that I expect she will not. Make no mistake, if she does... it will be over. Today, you fight not as Men, Mer, or Beast. Not as Vampire or Mortal. Not as Blade or Thalmor. Today you fight as one thing only: the Scales of the Dragonborn."

"J'zargo likes the name," my college dorm mate muttered.

"I suppose I can put off assassinating the bitch for a few days," Delphine told me, tossing a heavily venomous glare at the Thalmor. "Though it goes against everything my bones are screaming at me."

"The bitch feels the same way about you," Thera responded.

Delphine looked like she was about to attack, but I held my hand up. "We don't have the luxury of time nor the freedom of superior power necessary for any cracks. Put it aside Delphine. Behave as if, for just this battle, you have never met her before. After our armies part, I will be the first to try for her life, but that is another day. Another war. It doesn't matter right now."

"As I said," Rikke agreed. She clasped her hands behind her back and moved on to the next order of business. "The Runic Weapons have been handed out to the three human section commanders and they, in turn, have been assigned to the three locations that Florentius says Arkay specified. Nothing he's said so far had been off base, so we're sure that will work. None of you should have any problems with Lamae's Domination over the course of the battle, as our two resident Elder Scrolls readers have testified." Rikke gestured with her right hand at me and then at Thera. "This fight will either decide that we live to fight each other to the death another day, or we end up exterminated by the first Vampire. I personally would prefer the former to the latter."

Rikke glanced around, and I did the same. The faces of each member of this strike unit were filled with growing determination. We were the first, last, and only chance at stopping the most ancient living evil on all of Nirn from exterminating mortals and overthrowing a god or two. Overall, it looked more than a little hopeless. That said, most things I ended up doing looked hopeless at first. It hadn't stopped me – and Thera – from killing Alduin, or kept me from disarming the Eye of Magnus. _I've been in more hopeless fights before,_ I lied to myself.

I turned to the group. "Serana, Delphine, Jordis, you stick with me. J'zargo, stick with Vilkas and Brelyna to provide support and mid range attack. Ingjard will be with Agmaer," I commanded. I turned towards Thera. "Your turn."

"You four with us. You two with the Bow," she gestured after a brief moment of thought. "Do not fail."

"Yes, Lady Thera," they all muttered, bowing to their superior in the Court.

The leader of the unit's Vampires turned to me. "Are we done here?"

"I suppose so," Rikke said seriously. "Gods-speed, Dragonborn." She flashed a dry smile at Thera. "Talos guide you."

I couldn't stifle my sniggering at that.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I crouched in the shadows and drew my swords, watching the approaching legion of Vampires in the distance. They moved in perfect sync, marching across the planes like a horde ready to devour the entire world. If they weren't trying to murder me, I would have admired it. As it was, I could only hope they would soon be destroyed. From deep within their number came the echoing hunger and rage of Lamae Beolfag. While it had once been an all-consuming, oppressive force, the strength of the Domination had been shuttered by the presence of the ancient artifacts I had gathered. Honestly, I had been worried it would not work. I was glad to see that I had been wrong; we were in fact safe from her control.

They grew closer, and closer, approaching the location where our strike team was hiding. We had already sent off the Nord idiots with the Bow so they could find their way to a sniper's nest. This left the rest of us lying in wait to strike through the flank of the horde and make our way to the center. To the First Daughter of Coldharbour. I was thirsting for this battle. Without her vaunted Domination, she would soon find herself in a much different position than she had during our prior battles. No longer would she paralyze us all and control our minds. She would be wrought low by those she deemed so far beneath her. Me, the greatest of creatures on all of Nirn.

There was a certain poetry to – "Can you please stop posing like that? You're acting like a – well a Thalmor Vampire," Lucius growled at me, interrupting my thoughts.

"And you're acting like a boorish human. Don't tell me what to do, moron," I snapped back, my blade flashing to his throat. His bronze mask cocked to one side, the black slits of his eyes casting an angry glare at me, hiding what must have been the obvious fear on his face. I dropped my sword to my side and turned back to the encroaching horde. "Now quiet, it's almost time."

"I was – Ugh," he grumbled, returning his attention to the army. He glanced up at the sun, then frowned and looked back down."Okay, it's time."

"Agreed," I muttered, gesturing for him to stand in front of our group. For a moment, I thought about sliding my sword between his ribs and just finishing with this whole war. Of course, that would have been too dangerous at the moment, Lamae Beolfag ready to destroy the entire world and all that.

Lucius glanced over at me and we nodded at each other. The two of us glared up at the sky and combined our Voices. "_Strun Bah Qo!_"

The sky began to roll, thunder crashing above us and lightning flashing ominously. Streaks of the Magickal electricity crashed down to the ground, burning through members of the horrible horde. Lucius was already moving onto the next part of the plan. He stood well in front of us all, the gleaming energy of Magicka flowing through his veins and visibly crawling up his arms. He let the energy grow and compound until the ethereal glow covered his entire form. Then he let it all out, and I must wonder what a true master of Magick – an Elven master – could do with that same spell. A human sized stream of pure lightning flowed from his outstretched hands, carving a magnificent canyon of destruction into the plain far below. And, more deliciously, through the army of our foe. Entire batallions of Lamae's Vampires were exterminated in mere moments, burned away into Magickally charged ash beneath the weight of one of the most powerful spells ever crafted. After a half-minute, Lucius fell to his knees and the beam of lightning disappeared. There was a wild war cry as our military began its assault. "Attack," Lucius growled in exhaustion, his whore helping him to his feet.

I didn't really hear him, however. I was already leading the charge down from our hidey hole cave. "I will love murdering you fools," I muttered to myself as I approached the first snarling faces of my enemies. The flank of Lamae's army seemed to writhe and gather like a wave, filling the gap created by Lucius' spell and crashing against our unit. The sound of the war between our main forces and Lamae's horde echoed over our new attack, filling the world with the screams of death and the scent of blood. It was beautiful practice for the war that would inevitably come.

I quickly decapitated the closest incoming Vampire, sending its snarling face soaring above the battlefield. A moment later, a geyser of blood exploded from its throat, bathing me in its delicious, red warmth. My second blade became buried in another Vampire's heart and I used the corpse as a shield, deflecting spells and incoming arrows as I made my way towards the center of the horde. I eventually pulled my weapon from the Vampire's chest and kicked the body into one of its peers. I jabbed my weapon forward and through the throat of another enemy, then turned and barely deflected an incoming arrow with my main hand weapon. I moved to attack the fool who had attacked me, but I stopped once Lucius' servant barreled shield-first into the line of Vampires, knocking them down like dominoes and exposing them to another of our allies' attacks.

I cast a glare up at the cave, watching as the mage-elf healed him. Her _enemy _when the war inevitably came. Really, all I could see was the dying golden glow of her spells. Likely, Lucius was already on his way to attack Lamae from the other side and enact our plan. I turned my attention back in time to block an attack with my off hand weapon and decapitate the one who had assaulted me. "Press on!" I screamed, urging the fools following me to redouble their efforts. The hour of either my victory or my doom was at hand, and I would sacrifice anything to make sure it was the former. They roared in agreement and we made our way through the next layer of Vampires, pressing our backs together so we would not be surrounded. One of my Vampires was to my left and the Ebony clad servant of my enemy on my right.

I lashed out with my right sword, parrying an attack from one of Lamae's hordelings, twisting the blade to the side and slicing the hand off. The Vampire shrieked in pain, clutching at the stump of its hand for a moment before the 'Ebon Warrior' cleaved it in two at the gut. We advanced onward, leaving it screaming in the throes of death behind us. "For Talos!" the woman on my right screamed, raising her shield to bear the brunt of another blow. I scoffed and stabbed through the skull of her attacker. Talos. Ugh, the will of a single Man had somehow torn down the entirety of the White-Gold Concordat and rendered it a meaningless document. Of course, it was always meaningless to the Mer. Merely a clever way to get around the borders of the humans and enforce the death of a god. But now even that was taken. The Justicars had stopped patrolling since the civil war in Alinor had begun, a similar fight for control taking place there as in Cyrodiil. Not for long, of course. I caught an incoming ax with my blade, twisting it from the hand of its owner before decapitating her.

Then a shudder ran through the air. The battle itself seemed to stop as Lamae Bal herself appeared in an explosion of blood. The liquid was so much that it pooled around our ankles, creating a veritable river that we had to slog through. There was a loud, pained gasp, one of desperation for air, and Lucius and his group appeared behind her.

The woman herself was wearing glass armor, though it was thinner and the crystal was tinged the same dark crimson as the blood pooling at our boots. Her hair was done in a long braid trailing down her left shoulder. Her eyes were brilliant, glowing like suns even in the light cast by the Magelight spells all around. In her right hand was a long, jagged trident with grooves along the side of every prong. The blood beneath us began to recede and Lamae moaned appreciatively, the energy of countless cattle sating her hunger. "Now," she said, glancing around at us all, making motions with her hands to keep her horde at bay and to turn their attention back towards our army, "I believe you were looking for _me_?"

I growled and raised my weapons. "DIE!" I screamed, rushing towards the First Vampire.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"Attack," I growled over my shoulder, my entire body paralyzed with the intense exhaustion of utilizing so much raw Magicka. I apparently didn't have to tell Thera, as she had already made her way down towards our enemy's forces. Serana helped me scrabble to my feet, holding me up with her shoulder. "Dammit..." I made to follow and nearly fell to my knees again.

"Still," Brelyna commanded, grabbing me by the other shoulder and channeling healing Magick through my body. "You used up too much of your energy in that assault."

"We have to move," I responded, shoving off the two women's attention. I gasped and stumbled, but kept my feet. I groaned and lowered myself to my ass, still exhausted. "Fine. I'll be fine in a few minutes, with Brelyna's aid. Serana, get the others ready to move so we can get down there as soon as possible. We can't afford to wait too long." Serana smiled gratefully down at Brelyna, who was crouching beside me and already channeling a spell to heal me, then ran off to rally the others.

"You're pretty damn lucky," the Dunmer muttered.

"Really? I'm sure Orthjolf is as well," I retorted, letting a grin come to my face. The Dunmer blushed in response. Orthjolf had always been a rebel among Nords – what was more rebellious than finding a Dunmer mage for a lover? I laughed for a short while and let the Dark Elf work silently. Eventually, however, I felt my breath come safely. "Okay, let's get going."

"Agreed," Brelyna sighed hesitantly. "I'd rather you wait another moment or two, but there seems to be little time."

"Are you all ready?" I asked, turning to the warriors assembled. Elves, Men, Beasts. Mortals and Vampires. They looked as if they were indeed ready for this battle to both begin and end. I turned and drew my Dragonbone blade, raising it above my head. "Charge!"

I ran forward, summoning a Fireball to my off hand and letting it fly into the side of the mass of Vampires, burning away a small section of the monsters. They turned, slinging spells and arrows to annihilate me and my allies. With a growl of exertion, I tossed forward a wide ward, deflecting the spells and absorbing the Magicka that had come towards me. The wall shattered from the weight of the spells, but it had already done its job. Only the arrows came towards us, easily being blocked by the shields of those behind me. I myself, allowed the projectiles to uselessly clatter against my armor and fall to the ground.

I crashed against the enemy, alone shattering the outer wall of the enemy with a Fire Storm spell and clearing a path for my squad to attack as well.

I caught the incoming blade of a Vampire with my gauntlet, stopping it hard and burying my blade in my attacker's chest. A quick spout of flames kept the encroaching swarm at bay, allowing my allies time to aid me. Two of Serana's daggers twirled through the air over my shoulder, burying themselves in the skulls of two Vampires, causing one to erupt in flames and the other to die in a burst of Lightning. This was quickly followed by a barrage of Ice Spikes that decapitated those behind them. Serana passed me as I froze an enemy solid with my Voice, flipping to grab her daggers and using them to slit the throats of another two Vampires.

"J'Zargo thinks we could do this!" my friend shouted, his Khajit voice laughing boisterously as he shot spells in defense of Brelyna and the rest of us.

"That makes all of us!" I shouted in joyous response, quickly moving to kill a Vampire creeping up behind Delphine. I smirked as she turned around, though she couldn't see it behind my mask. "Is all your time in Sky Haven Temple dulling your skills, O Leader of the Dragonguard?"

She snarled in response and her Katana flashed past my head. Blood spurted from over my shoulder. "Is your woman dulling yours?" she asked before turning away to kill another.

I glanced over at Serana, who calmly shot her right hand behind her, killing a Vampire that was advancing on her. I certainly didn't have to watch my back when she was around. I could watch hers instead – wait, that came out just a little wrong. "N-not in the way you think," I muttered, extremely glad that my face was hidden by my Dragon Priest mask.

I shook my head and returned to battle, forcing my way through the enemy as the point of a spear would through armor, pulling my friends and allies along in my wake. The enemy crashed against me, tyring to swarm and destroy me. "_Fus Ro Dah!_" I roared, extending my hands before me as I did. The enemy before us flew apart, clearing the path before us.

"Well, I always knew you were impressive," a somewhat familiar voice said, causing the Vampires around us to back away in deferential respect. The entire battlefield was completely silent, falling to their knees around us. From within the bowels of her army came the First Vampire herself. Lady Lamae Beolfag. She was wearing a simple, black tunic and holding a golden, cruel looking trident in her right hand. "But I think my army would fall against you alone, were I not here." She raised her hand towards us, her face shaking angrily. "Hm. Perhaps not. You found the Runed Weapons, then, didn't you? Impressive. Pointless, but clever." Her hand rose to the sky, blood congealing around her dress and forming armor of Magick around her body. It was like Glass armor, save that it was a deep crimson where it should be green and was silver where it should be gold. "Then let us see how you all fight beside me, hm?" The red exploded outward, and the world was filled with blood.

It was like drowning, filling every crevice, every breath with the red liquid. We were all dying in this cascade of blood.

And then, just like that, it was over. I gasped, painfully pulling in my first breath in what seemed like hours into my lungs. "Talos, save us," I gasped, trying to push myself to my feet. The ocean of blood beneath my feet sloshed as I did, then began to recede.

"Now, I believe you were looking for _me_?" the Vampiress asked, an evil grin on her face and her hand outstretched towards – Thera?

"We've been teleported," I growled. I gripped my right hand tighter, and noticed my Dragon Bone sword was gone. Wordlessly, I watched Thera rush like a fool towards the First Vampire; I drew my crossbow and began firing explosive crossbow bolts towards the monster, whose armor merely deflected them.

"What's going on?" Serana asked beside me, having become stronger as a result of the bloody explosion, rather than nearly drowning.

"That armor, it's strong enough to shrug off explosive Magicks," I told her, dropping the useless Crossbow and drawing Dawnbreaker. It quivered, both terrified and ecstatic at its first use in ages. "It's made from her Blood, so it can't be destroyed by any of us. We need to hope that Agmaer will land a hit soon..."

"Or we're dead?" Serana asked. Thera was tossed aside by one of Lamae's hands, then rolled to her feet and made to attack once again.

"Or _you're_ all dead," I corrected grimly, slowly advancing on the monster. "I'm pretty sure she wants me alive."

I took off at a run, gripping Dawnbreaker in both hands and roaring. Lamae turned calmly towards me, raising her trident in her right hand and allowing Thera's attack to glance off of her armor. "Yes, come to me, Dragonborn. Give yourself to me," Lamae commanded, dark desire on her face.

"Oh, no he won't!" Serana's voice came from behind me. Her Ice Spikes flew past me, one shattering against Lamae's trident, and the other flying through her skull. Sadly, it gave me hope to see that. Bad idea.

Lamae's head immediately reformed, even as the Spike passed through it, blood, bone, and brain stitching together even while they were broken. "That was... a poor choice," the Vampire snarled at Serana, misting around me as I slashed at her. She appeared behind me and brought her trident down to kill Serana. The one who saved her, surprisingly enough, was Thera. She ran past me, appearing beside Serana in a flash and bringing her swords up to bear against the fork of Lamae's Trident. "And so was that." She twisted her trident, locking in Thera's blades, and snapped it to the side. The Bitch was sent flying.

Serana growled and threw her freezing dagger into Lamae's skull as the First Vampire watched Thera tumble across the ground. The ancient evil's skin froze solid, granting Serana enough time to jump backwards and letting me toss a Sunball at Lamae. She took the attack, letting it melt the ice from her face. Delphine jumped past me, catching the trident with her blade and bringing it to the ground. Jordis soon followed suit, grabbing Lamae's off hand and holding it steady so I could approach.

"Clever," Lamae admitted, easily lifting my allies with straight arms, then tossing them away. As Delphine and Jordis skidded across the ground, Lamae advanced on me. "But clever is meaningless against power. You will understand that soon, Dragonborn. You will help me to destroy gods!" She dashed towards me, trident first, and the weapon clashed against Dawnbreaker, hissing and healing against the Sun Magicks I wielded through my weapon. "So where is the Bow?"

That was around the time Serana alerted me. "Luc! Ten feet!"

I nodded, understanding what she meant. "_Fus Ro Dah!_" I screamed, sending the Vampiress tumbling back. I ran forward and reached out with telekinetic Magicks, pulling her down to the ground where Serana had said. The arrow collided with her right hand, and the trident was sent flying.

"Ah, you managed well," Lamae grunted, pushing herself to her feet. "Enchanting arrows with Sun Magick to break through my armor." She snapped the arrow in two and dropped. She stared at her hand, waiting for the hole to heal. Her eyes turned to me. Her voice was quietly angry, filled with ice. "What did you do?"

"She's vulnerable!" I screamed, dashing towards the First Vampire.

"No, you will not kill me!" she screamed, summoning her trident back to her hand with Magick. She slashed through the chest of one of Thera's Vampires, the blood running down the grooves of her trident. A black light shot form her hand, raising the Vampire from the dead as a zombie. The corpse ran towards me in attack. Dawnbreaker sang as I killed it again, resulting in an explosion of light that burned through Lamae as well. "Damn!"

The Vampire twirled her weapon, jamming it into the gut of the next warrior to attack her, even severing the left arm with one of its teeth. "Jordis!" I screamed, running even faster towards Lamae. I ducked beneath the next attack and lashed out with my sword. It collided with the handle of the trident, and I felt the base of the weapon slam into my skull. I grinned darkly and felt the Mask draw on my Magicka reserves, releasing an explosion of healing Magick that likely saved Jordis' life, and summoning the specter of the mask's namesake.

"A ghost!?" Lamae asked, slashing blindly at the Dragon Priest to kill it. This gave Thera enough time to tackle the Vampire to the ground, and the others began unleashing blow after blow upon her exposed face.

"No! Stop!"

I held up my hand and the group stopped attacking her. "Do you remember what Florentius told you when we first met, Lamae?" I asked. The Vampire just snarled at me. "Arkay was granting your wish, it was just going to take a while." And with that, I brought Dawnbreaker down through the skull of the Vampiress, ending the battle as all of her children around us fell to ash.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

And with that, Oblivion broke loose. Arrows flew from the edges of the battlefield, an army of werewolf hunters rushed in from beyond the horizon. And I made my move in the confusion. I rushed towards the place where Agmaer and the Bow waited.

"We have to stop her, Serana!" Lucius shouted. "Brelyna, help Jordis. The rest of you – now!"

"So you were planning to betray us?" I inquired as I ran, sprinting at just the right speed to ensure he did not fall behind. The plan was going perfectly, so far. One dead Lamae, soon to be one captured Serana. And no Bow. Yes, my victory was close at hand. "What happened to your paltry _honor_, _Jokaar_? Did it ever really matter to you?"

"Do not taunt me, witch!" he screamed, shooting a lightning bolt that narrowly missed my head. I laughed and swerved into a nearby battle between my forces and the warriors that Lucius had brought, knowing that Lucius would fall behind trying to save them. I had to keep him close... but I wasn't suicidal.

I quickly made my way up the mountain, only stopping to laugh or taunt my opposite. He had to stay close. As I approached the clearing, I grinned. My Thrall had done exactly as commanded. "You won't get away you... witch... Ingjard, no..."

I smiled and turned around, keeping my Thrall at my back. "I enthralled this one some time ago, _Ayleid_. It's a good slave, huh? You thought she was strong, but she _served __**me**_**.** The Bow is ours, as was promised!"

"The good of the world outweighs that deal," Lucius replied, readying Dawnbreaker. He glared past me at Ingjard, the foolish slave. "I'm sorry. Death is the only freedom I can grant you."

And with that, he attacked me, not even noticing the most important change that had occurred. He believed his whore could protect herself? Well, usually I'd agree. But the entire military had brought itself upon the task of capturing her. And we had already succeeded. I deflected his blow, stumbling to the side on purpose. "Run, Ingjard. Take the bow," I commanded, knowing that this was the end. He would make a single decision, and I would either be victorious or I would die.

And I was victorious.

Lucius growled and kicked at me, sending me tumbling backwards. He chased after Ingjard, and I crept away, assured in my victory over my moronic _Jokaar_. "Come, Lucius. Bring me my bow, and perish for your whore. Sacrifice your whole world for a single woman, just like the fool you are."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The attack after the battle had been costly. Though Jordis had survived, she had lost her arm and likely wouldn't be able to fight ever again. Three of the Companions had fallen to the Silver Hand before the ambush had even began, and scores of Imperials, Dawnguard, and Nords alike fell to the arrows of the Dark Brotherhood archers before we finally succeeded in killing them all. But worst of all..?

Worst of all, _she_ had been taken. It was genius, really. Even knowing that Thera planned it this way, I was going to waltz right into her trap because to do otherwise would mean she died. I'd risk everything for Serana, no matter how damnably stupid it would be to do so. But that's love, isn't it?

"We need to save her," I demanded simply, slamming the Bow down on top of the table.

"No. They can't do anything without the Bow," Isran said. He slammed his fists down atop the table. "I'm sorry about your Vampire, but this is bigger than her. You need to acknowledge she isn't as important as our war."

"She is. To me. Everyone is. Isran, you're a good General. Really," I replied, placing my Mask on the table. "A true warrior willing to make the hard choices. I respect you for that. But this is bigger than a simple fight for everything. We've won that. This right here is about a battle for the soul of the world."

"You're an idiot. That bow isn't going anywhere, Lucius," Isran snapped. He gestured at Hadvar and Rikke. "Hundreds are dead from this battle alone. We're licking our wounds. This isn't the time to assault the Volkihar."

"This is the only time to assault them. Their numbers were just as injured as ours -"

"If it weren't for the surprise attack by the Dark Brotherhood and the Silver Hand, I'd agree," Isran snapped, slamming his fist on the table again and cracking the wood. "But the Dawnguard are barely hanging on as it is."

I narrowed my eyes at Isran. "Old Man, you can't stop me. They want the bow? I'll take it, and I'll kill every one of those bastards before they can do anything about it." I slammed my fist onto the table then, shattering it completely. I caught the Bow in one hand and wrapped it around my shoulders. I continued speaking, "Isran, we both know that for that woman, I would do _anything_. This isn't about victory anymore. It's our duty, the duty of those in the right, to save everyone that they can. Every single life, no matter what. And as long as she's around Thera, Serana is in danger. You made me take an oath to protect all mortals I could -"

"She's not mortal!"

"She was trying to be!" I roared, causing the entire room to suddenly grow silent. Isran's gaze met mine, emotions I'm not even sure he understood running through his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he finally asked.

I sighed and ran my gauntlet through my hair. "We were planning on going to Morthal as soon as this battle ended. The rumors are that someone there knows the Cure. She... asked me to take her there. She _wanted_ to be human," I explained, fidgeting from side to side. Her face flashed through my mind and I grew deathly still, save for rage quivering through my fist.

Isran was deathly silent, then turned to Rikke. "Take your Imperials and the Royal Army back to Solitude. I don't care much about it, but the war with the Thalmor will break out soon," he told her. Rikke glanced over at me and I nodded in agreement. She nodded deferentially and saluted, then left the tent with Hadvar at her side. Isran sighed and turned back to me, brow furrowed. His voice came out as only a low, angry growl. "You know, even now I wish that Durak had understood and sought out Thera instead of you. You're too damn soft."

I growled and stepped forward. "You -"

"Because having you around has been making me soft," the weary Imperial mumbled, causing me to freeze. He looked up, an honest to gods smile on his face. Gone was the tired, haunted look in his eyes. Instead, he had... humanity that he had long since tossed away. "I'll gather whoever I can get for your crazy little rescue mission, but it won't be much. So you better have a gods-damned plan, you crazy Dragonborn."

I smiled thankfully. "I... Yes, Sir!" I cried, snapping a salute.


	53. Kindred Judgment:Empire's Cornerstone

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Things were quiet as Isran, Mogrul, Gunmar, Celann, Sorine, Florentius, a few other Dawnguard, and myself watched the bodies of our fallen comrades advance slowly into the distance. They would be transported first to Whiterun, where their bodies would be put through the first rituals of burial, then they would be sent off to their kin all around Tamriel, regardless of nationality or clan. "May the Sun ever shine with you, may the gods ever grant you glory, and may you find peace in Aetherius," Isran muttered, his eyes locked on the coffins graced with the Dawnguard Sun. "May you be present when Dusk falls to fight, and when Dawn rises to celebrate your victory. Stendarr's mercy upon you."

"Stendarr's mercy upon you," we all muttered in unison. I looked up and pulled the Bow of Auri-El from my shoulders, aiming the Sunhallowed arrow towards the rising Sun. I loosed it and the orb of Magick lit up, shooting bright light across the surface of Nirn. The sky lit up with many colors, the Aurora shimmering above the coffins. A final goodbye to our friends. "Talos guide you."

Isran frowned and shifted the weight of his pack. Rikke had been kind enough to lend us horses for our journey to the Castle Volkihar, seeing as we had all decided to see our comrades off one last time before their final journey into Aetherius. We were a day behind the Vampires now, but on Horseback we would be able to catch up to our quarry or at least arrive within only a few hours of them. "Talos guide us," he muttered, shooting a glare at me.

"You're sure you're still up for this, right?" I asked the old man. He sighed and nodded while I looped the Bow back around my shoulders. He turned away to stare at the coffins once more and I placed my hand on his shoulder. "They wouldn't blame you."

"I know, but letting any of our men die..." Isran shrugged. He wasn't very good at this type of thing, but he deeply cared for the men that he had led into battle. "I keep going over the battle in my head, noticing little things I could have done... big decisions I should have made differently. I was too lax with the Vampires."

"So was I. I didn't expect they could have gotten into the Dawnguard Inner Circle like that," I replied, my eyes finding one of the Dawnguard coffins. "I had to run Ingjard through, Isran. But she didn't curse me. She thanked me. She thanked me for freeing her and stopping her from getting the Bow to Harkon. Any of the Dawnguard would say the same about how you've behaved – they were willing to sacrifice their livese to save the world. You led them to victory, and they will feast in Aetherius for eons because of it. They're heroes."

Isran snorted. "You're better at this than I am," he muttered. He looked over at me. "You know, I'm getting old. Bitter. Maybe I should retire – Vampire Hunting is a young man's game, after all."

I shook my head at what he was getting at. "You're not old enough that I can't keep learning from you, Isran," I said, still shaking my head.

"Yes. But this is your mission. It's time to rally the troops," he said, gesturing with his head at the group amassed behind us. About twenty five in all, excluding Florentius.

I nodded and turned around. "Thank you," I began, earning a few worried fidgets from them all. "I know that not all of you like Serana. Some of you probably hate her, on principle. She is a Daughter of Coldharbour, after all. But you are all here because you can look past that. This isn't about just saving Serana. This is about saving someone who wants to be human – mortal again. Someone just like all of us. Someone who doesn't want to wake up at night to hunt people. But the difference is that she can actually escape it.

"What we do, we do for all mortals, regardless of their race or their Empire, their Religion or Duties. Soldiers and Assassins alike owe their lives to us this day, because we work to save _every_ mortal from Vampires. This Bow? It will not fall into the hands of the enemy. We will kill them all and free a person from the bonds of Molag Bal. We will be what we are – Dawnguard." I raised Dawnbreaker above my head. "To Victory!"

"To Victory!" they all cried in agreement as they ran towards the horses.

"That was good," Isran said, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"I liked it as well," Florentius said as he came close. He was wearing his monk's robes again, his place in our war having ended for now. "I wish could go with you."

"It's not your place," I said with a calming smile. I looked towards the west for a moment, then back at the Man. "You're Arkay's prophet -" Isran sighed, ever the disbeliever in his friend's ability. "-there's no point in endangering you needlessly in an assault on the Volkihar. You'll be needed when the War begins."

"Arkay agrees with you," the monk said. He sighed again. "I must trust in his guidance, for he sees that which we cannot." Florentius' eyes sparkled and he laughed. "Including that a Dragonborn would free the First Daughter of Coldharbour from her curse countless millennia after her creation."

"Tell him I'm glad to be of service," I said. I bowed my head slightly and shouldered my pack. "Where are you off to next?"

"Hm?" Florentius asked. I opened my mouth to repeat my question, but stopped when I noticed his eyes were staring upward. He was asking Arkay. His gaze met mine again. "I will be traveling to the Imperial City. Apparently, a new Emperor will be chosen by the end of next year, shortly before the war breaks out. My connection with Arkay will be of use to the Empire in the coming war with the Thalmor. At least, that's what he tells me."

"Well, I'm sure we will meet again soon, then," I said with a smile. "I fully intend to aid in the defense of the Empire against the Thalmor once this is all over. And I apparently have a knack for attracting the attention of royalty. You'll show me around the Imperial Palace if I'm ever invited, right?"

Florentius smirked and shook his head. "I'm sure a hero like you will be more acquainted with it than a mere mystic like myself," he said, chuckling at me. He sighed and looked to the South. "You best leave." He turned back to me and clasped my right arm with his own, and similarly with Isran's left. "Safe journeys and Arkay's Blessing, my friends. I hope to share a drink with you both soon."

"Aye," Isran said, grinning at the monk. "I suppose that would be nice."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"I'll kill you when I get out of this!" Serana screamed from the stone ground of the Castle's Chapel of Molag Bal. From how she was acting, I guessed that _this_ was where the eternal Darkness of Molag Bal's sacrifice had occurred all those centuries ago. I mean, sure I'd kidnapped her and was planning on slitting her throat by the end of the day, but this was just a bit much. Her eyes turned to her father. "Let me go, Harkon, or else."

"No love for dear _Father_, Serana?" the Vampire Lord asked while he paced around her. He leaned down in front of her as he came around. He grabbed her face with one hand and squished her cheeks together. "First you betray me for your mother, and now for a mortal. Where did I go wrong?"

"Here. In this room. Millennia ago," Serana growled. Ah, I was right! "On the other hand, I never would have met Luc if you hadn't, so I guess I should thank you."

Harkon snorted in disgust at the mere idea that his daughter meeting my _Jokaar_ had anything to do with him, and tossed her to the ground. "Perhaps I should keep him alive then. Cattle, perhaps? He could feed us for months. Years if we do it right. I wonder what the blood of one chosen by the Aedra would taste like?" He laughed at his daughter's enraged glare. "No, you're right. That. Isn't. Good enough. Molag Bal's feast day is soon, isn't it? Yes... offer him up? See if he still cares after he sees what you begged for?"

Serana shivered with rage at his feet. "Mother was right, you are a crazy son of a bitch," she said coolly, earning a laugh from her father. "And weak." His laughter immediately cut short and he turned his angry gaze on her. "You're trying to fight someone so far beyond you the fight will be like Talos conquering the _Summerset Isle_."

"That one was meant for me, right?" I asked innocently. I lashed out with my leg and Serana's head snapped to the side. She hit the ground and dragged herself up. "_Alinor_. Which is where we should _really_ send him. They'll break him and build him up and break him all over again until nothing but Ayleid is left." Serana's eyes widened and I knew that I'd hit the exact right spot. "I read some of the reports – you think that Dwemer was a monster? Ayleid, _Lucius_, did things that made her look downright cuddly. He forced husbands to murder their wives. Brothers to _eat_ their siblings. There was no punishment he would not unleash."

"That's not him anymore," Serana growled hollowly.

"But. It. Will. Be," I hissed. I patted her cheek and snarled. "So be a good little girl, and maybe we'll stick with Thralling him. Ooh! Maybe he could be your chew toy!"

Serana glanced at the ground. "I'll be happy when he kills you," she said. Her eyes drifted up to her father. "I thought I might still feel bad that you'd have to die; thanks for showing me there's no reason to."

Harkon glared down at her, then turned around and walked away. "I will tell the others what will be happening," Harkon explained as he moved towards the exit. "You and I will be in here when the Dawnguard inevitably attack. Hide, prepare to attack Lucius from the shadows. And by the Name of Bal shut her up."

I nodded. "Of course," I said with a sinister smile. I turned on my heel and bent down to talk to her before doing anything else.

"What do you want?" Serana hissed.

"I'm going to kill your father before I even touch your little boyfriend, you cradle snatcher you," I said, looking at Serana from the very bottom of my eyes. I began to sneer down at her. "How do you like that? You'll go from having daddy issues and a loving mate, to no father and no family whatsoever. And, maybe after that, I'll finally let you die."

"Crazy bitch," Serana growled. She shot her face forward and spat, the saliva landing on my cheek.

"Oh, I'm really going to enjoy this," I said after a short pause. I drew my twin blades and raised my foot above her head. "So very, _very_ much."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"_Fus Ro Dah!_"

The doors to Castle Volkihar flew open at the insistence of my Voice, their bolts shattering and crushing the defending force of Vampires that had been amassed behind it. The group that had come with me charged in, crying out in desire for victory as soon as they ran past me. "Today, these Vampires shall feel the wrath of the Nine!" I shouted at the top of my lungs while raising Dawnbreaker above my head, then I charged in after my allies. This was it, the day we exterminated the Volkihar Vampires and brought a measure of peace to the Night.

I leaped from the top of the stairs, landing atop a Vampire dueling with one of Gunmar's trolls he'd managed to bring. The creature roared in annoyance, but made its way over to another of the enemy while I buried my blade in the Vampire's heart. Sunlight exploded from his chest as Dawnbreaker hungrily burned away the undead creature's body. The Vampires closest to me hissed in pain, giving the Dawnguard fighting them a chance to easily run them through.

"Get going, Luc," Isran commanded as he used his hammer to batter the skull clean off of an Argonian Vampire he was fighting. "We can handle things here."

I looked around. Not everyone was doing as well as Isran, but the man could inspire greatness. I nodded and ran towards the place where I, somehow, _knew_ Serana waited for me.

A pair of undead dogs blocked my path and I grunted in pain as one jumped to bite me. It missed, but its Frost Cloak bit at my very bones. I growled and snapped my leg out, kicking the creature into the wall before lashing out at the other and burying my sword in its skull. The creature screamed as it died, unleashing another explosion of Sunlight that burned its partner away to ash. I stood up and cast a powerful healing spell before advancing on the door once again.

"Harkon!" I screamed while summoning a Fireball to my hand. I let it loose and the doors shuddered, fractured, and exploded inward at the force of my Magick. I advanced slowly up the stairs, stopping at the top and raising my blade in front of me. I smiled over at Serana, who was gagged and staring at me from the floor. "Serana... I'm here to get you out."

"So you came," Harkon noted. I turned my gaze to him and narrowed my eyes. He was in his true form once again, that of an eight foot tall, gray skinned monster with a blood red cape. He floated just above the ground, either hand glowing with Mystickal energy. "My daughter's pet, keeping her entertained, filling her mind with delusions of the Sun."

"You know why I'm here," I said quietly.

"Of course I do," Harkon spat. He sighed. "You disappoint me, Lucius. I offered you everything. Had you just agreed, the world would have bowed at your feet. Instead you wished to remain this... pathetic being."

"I don't desire to rule," I responded, shifting my grip on my blade. "I wish to remain this _pathetic being. _I was a monster for long enough." I began slowly advancing on Harkon.

The Vampire Lord merely laughed and lifted his daughter by her cloak. I froze as he lowered his hand to her face. "Not another step. I have sacrificed too much for this to allow sentimentality for my daughter to cloud my judgement," he explained.

I growled, but didn't lower my weapon. My voice came out as a low, threatening growl. "I will not let you touch her," I hissed.

"So, I see this dragon has fangs," Harkon said coolly. He tossed his daughter haphazardly to his other hand and began to grip her by the throat. "You have been around Isran too much."

"No, because I'm not willing to sacrifice another damn person," I growled. "Drop her."

Harkon was quiet for a moment, black eyes examining me analytically. He nodded after a moment. "So it appears I have you to thank for turning my daughter against me," he said before heaving a heavy sigh. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be forced to see the hatred in her heart."

"Hatred born of your neglect," I retorted, hoping – praying – that Harkon hadn't noticed the spell I had started to summon.

"Hmph," Harkon grunted. "A small price to pay for the betterment of our kind."

"You were never about that," I snapped, drawing an annoyed look from Harkon. "You wish to dominate. That's it. Your kind is a blight upon this world."

"Yes, yes. Always the noble Vampire hunter," Harkon said, waving his claw dismissively. He scoffed. "And what happens once you have slain me? Will your precious gods and conscience call on you to slay all the surviving Daughters of Coldharbour? Thera first? Then hunt them all down until it is time to kill Serana herself."

"First off, I don't mean Vampires," I muttered.

"Oh, really. Then do explain," Harkon said, cocking his monstrous head to the side.

"I mean self indulgent monsters who would sacrifice their family for a moment of power," I shouted, causing the Vampire to flinch ever so slightly. I stood tall and leveled my blade at Harkon. "People like you, or Thera."

Harkon glared at me. "And... second?"

I looked over at Serana's eyes. They were filled with horror, a warning of some sort. Thera was here. That had to be it. I returned my attention to Harkon and smiled softly. "Because unlike you, I would never harm Serana. She's not just important to me, she is _everything_ to me."

Harkon scoffed. "Well, then my daughter is _truly_, woefully lost," he sighed. "Good, it will make it easier knowing she died the moment she accepted a mere mortal into her life."

"Enough!" I snapped.

"Yes, I agree," Harkon spat. "I grow weary of speaking to you. You have this one chance to turn the Bow over to me." Harkon's hand began to glow around Serana's throat. "There will not be a second."

I didn't respond for a moment. "No," I finally said, and I launched my hand forward, green light suddenly streaming from my outstretched palm. The energy collided with Harkon and he tumbled through the Dark Chapelet, crashing into the Altar of Bal on the other end of the room. I rushed towards Serana, whom he had dropped when my Paralyze spell had hit him, and cut her bonds.

"It's a trap," she hissed, tears in her eyes. "Run! Leave me, please!"

I cut the rest of her bonds. "Trap? Please. Like these two could fight us," I said, pulling the blade Grimsever – on loan from a friend – from my belt. She glared at me, but eventually sighed and took the blade before standing back to back with me. I sheathed Dawnbreaker and summoned a Daedric sword to my right hand for the coming fight. "It's nice to see you again, Darling."

Serana tossed a glare over at me as her father began to float to an upright stance again. "Only because you were a wreck without me," she sighed, jabbing my ribs with her elbow. "I can see it now: 'Oh, whatever will I do without my strong Serana there to protect me?'"

"You took the words from my mouth," I admitted with a shrug before setting my jaw. "Now how about we end this?"

"You took the words from my mouth."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Harkon fought like a fool, overextending himself at every moment because he believed I would soon be there to aid him. This allowed Lucius and Serana to attack him, easily landing blows that would have killed anyone else. I am loathe to admit it, but Harkon was quite powerful, enough so that to kill him would be a tiring nuisance of a task. By waiting for Lucius and his Whore to do it, though? Well, that was just killing two birds with one stone: they'd be tired out by the time I made my final move on Harkon and easily defeated the two. I would lead the Vampires to victory over the Dawnguard, capture Serana, put my _Jokaar_ to death, and finally lead my army to conquer Tamriel, Nirn, and Aetherius itself. I would mantle the Divines themselves!

Harkon summoned a gargoyle to aid him in battling his daughter and _de facto_ son-in-law, sending the creature to attack the human, who decapitated it without a single moment of hesitation before joining Serana in assaulting him. "Enough!" Harkon eventually shouted, raising his hands and summoning a wall of Red energy before him. He disappeared in a cloud of bats and rematerialized above the Alter of Bal, that same red energy forming a wall between himself and our enemies. Lucius raised his arm and launched a fireball at the energy, but it was easily deflected.

"I couldn't agree more," I said, revealing myself from my hiding place at last.

"Good, now attack -" Harkon said without turning to face me. I ignored him and jumped atop the altar, both swords drawn, and used it to springboard into the air.

"It's time for the New Blood to lead, you fool," I said, driving both of my blades through Harkon's chest. He fell to the ground, the red energy disappearing as his skull collided with the stone floor.

Harkon's gaze fell on his daughter. "Father?" she finally managed, his body slowly turning back to his human form. Tears were streaming from his eyes. "Father?"

"The power," he moaned wistfully as life left his eyes. "My... power..."

At that, Serana's eyes hardened once more. "No love lost, then?" I asked as I slowly stood up, trading one of my blades for the Enchanted Katana that had been tied to Harkon's hip. I smiled at the sweating, tired fools standing opposite me. "Now... hand over the Bow. Or don't. I'll enjoy killing you both anyways."

"You Bitch!" Lucius screamed, rushing towards me clumsily. His rage always did that to him, making him as shortsighted as a child. It was why it was so easy to plan around his ability to bend Fate to his will wherever he went. On top of that, he was tired from his short, if taxing battle with Harkon. I dodged another of his attacks and kicked his side, sending him into the path of one of Serana's Ice Spikes. The energy crashed into his back and he stumbled forward, barely raising his blade in time to prevent me from landing a blow across his face. As it was, the flat of his summoned blade collided with his face and he was sent stumbling back.

"Hand over the bow," I commanded again. "My Empire awaits." I jumped forward and slashed down at Lucius' head. My attack was blocked by Serana, and I was suddenly hit by Lucius' shoulder in my midsection, the force driving me back as he ran me into the wall.

I growled and slammed my elbow down on his neck, causing him to spasm and let go. From there I raised my legs and kicked, sending him tumbling backwards. His whore helped him to his feet and they both prepared to attack me again. But I wasn't willing to give them another chance. "_Fus Ro Dah!_"

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I groaned and pushed myself to my feet, the dust and stone sliding off of my dented, or in some places _fractured_, ebony armor. With her Voice, Thera had sent Serana and me flying through the wall of the chaplet and down into the main hall of the Castle. "Luc," Isran muttered, rushing to my side. He looked down at Serana and grabbed my arm. "You have to go."

"We can take her," I mumbled, shaking him off and stumbling forward. I fell to my knee and groaned, Serana not in much better shape beside me.

"Not like this you can't," Isran said. He frowned and glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention to Serana. "Get him out of here. I don't care how much he begs you not to, get him out of here and don't look back."

"No!" I urged, struggling against Isran and Serana's grasp. "I won't let you fight her without me! I won't let anyone else die fighting her for me!"

"I'm not dying for you!" Isran snapped, drawing me out of my anger. "I don't plan on dying, but if I do it's to keep the Bow and your girl out of Vampire hands. So go, or all the sacrifices our friends and families have made will have been for nothing. The Sun will die, the Thalmor will rule, and humans will die in cattle pits by the thousands. Don't let anything like that happen, dammit, or you aren't the hero everyone thinks you are."

I froze. "I..." I looked over at Serana. She was supporting me, but she looked worse than I felt. My first duty was to save her and the Bow. Isran was right. "Remember, we're supposed to share a drink with Florentius when this is all over."

"I'm planning on it," Isran said, forcing me to my feet. "Now go."

_**Zuspein**_

I stood in the center of the Morthal Court Mage's home, barely able to hold myself together. The only thing that made me was Serana. She was on her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. I understood. Her last hope – her only hope – for truly escaping the Prophecy that the Vampires wanted to force on her was laying at our feet. His throat had been slit, letting his blood pour out to pool on the floor of his home. Lying atop his long-cold fluids was his daughter, her throat similarly slit so that her blood had mixed with that of her adoptive father.

"Dragonborn, what did you – Gods above," Jarl Idgrod muttered as she walked into the room. Her eyes caught sight of the dead Dawnguard in the corner.

"He was a thrall. Serana confirmed it," I whispered hoarsely to the Jarl. I was suddenly feeling dead inside rather than sad or enraged. Just... "So much death because of her."

"Who?"

I lifted my fist and opened it, revealing the note left for me. "I knew you would come here. I heard you and your... whore in your tent. Trying to keep her blood from me? Not anymore you aren't," I recited without looking at it again.

"The other Dragonborn?" Idgrod asked, her hand suddenly on my shoulder.

"Yes," I muttered.

Idgrond sighed and hugged me apologetically, like a grandmother I suppose. "I am truly sorry," she supplied, meaning it.

"What do I do?" I asked her, still staring at the dead Dawnguard.

In response, the Jarl turned me to look at her. "You already know what you have to do, don't you?" she asked, her far seeing gaze matching my dead eyed stare.

I nodded slowly and waved the old woman off. "Serana, it's time to go," I said a few minutes later, my eyes now locked on the horrified look on the child's face.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her sobbing finally stopped. She was stuck looking at the child as well and she began clutching at her stomach like she was going to be sick.

I sighed. "You're leaving," I told her, steeling my voice and tearing my gaze away from the child.

"Like Oblivion!" Serana snapped, surging to her feet to stare me in the eye.

"It's the only way I can help you at all," I explained. "I'll take you to Windhelm, and you can book passage somewhere else."

"Not without you," she replied, clutching at my arms. "I'm not leaving you."

"Serana, you need to run. It's the only way they won't find you," I explained sadly, clutching at her. "I... I don't want this. I don't want to wonder every day where you are."

"Then I'll tell –"

"I would run to you. I wouldn't be able to stop myself," I said, pulling her close and hugging her. I placed my hand on the back of her head and held her close, breathing her scent in as I cried. I couldn't hold it together anymore, and I began to sob. "I'd risk everything to find you."

"We have the Bow," she tried to protest, but I could hear it in her voice... she knew it was the only way.

"And it's only a matter of time until we fight for that again," I said sadly. "You need to hide. I promise, when I can... nothing will keep me from finding you. Not gods, or Vampires, or mortals. I will break through time if I need to."

"And what will you be doing in the meantime?" Serana asked hollowly.

_**Zuspein**_

I burst through the door of Castle Dour like a madman, still clothed in my shattered Ebony armor. "Legate, I'm afraid that General Tullius has ordered -"

"I don't give a skeever's tit," I growled, more than a little alcohol coming off my breath as I shoved the puny guard out of the way. I had just ridden nonstop from Windhelm where I had to tie myself to the bridge to keep from chasing Serana. Another sacrifice for the greater good, as always.

"But, Legate -"

I shoved him out of the way again. "I'm not in the mood," I growled, my throat burning with desire to let my Voice fly. The soldier palled and nodded, following after me as I walked into the war room, where Tullius was conversing worriedly with Rikke.

"And they're all damn power hungry fools," the General growled, slamming his fist onto the table. "Not a one of them was willing to support the claim of anyone else. Whenever I tried to, the others would get angry and threaten war."

"I'm sure someone will rise, Sir," Rikke replied. "The Throne is a vacuum; it will suck someone worthy to its position."

"Sir, I'm so sorry. He insisted -"

"It's fine, go, Auxiliary," the General commanded the young man behind me. The man scurried away, eager to escape my wake. "What the hell is wrong with you, Legate."

"So, you're having trouble choosing an Emperor?" I asked, cutting through the shit.

Rikke's eyes widened and she glanced between the General and Me. "Luc," she cautioned.

The alcohol in my head laughed at that caution. "None of them are the right Man for the job," I told Tullius. I pulled my armor from my shoulders – it was useless after all, my half-drunk brain told me – and tossed it to the floor.

"True," Tullius growled, his eyes fixed on the growing, unceremonious pile on the floor. "What's gotten into you, Legate?"

"When would you say the Empire was at its strongest?" I asked, ignoring what he said.

"When –"

"Right. Talos," I said, sticking my finger in the air. "Tiber Septim himself. That's when. The Empire was at its strongest when the Stormcrown himself sat at the helm, guiding its armies and protecting its people."

Tullius frowned. "Your point, Legate?"

I growled and stood to my fullest height, glaring down at the Imperial general. My hair was matted with blood, sweat, and dirt and my eyes were deep red from tears. Blood was caked over my skin to form vibrant, angry war paint from the forms of my enemies. "Tullius, you are going to help me take that throne."

"This doesn't sound like you," Rikke said worriedly. "Why the sudden thirst for power?"

"Thirst?" I asked. I laughed and swayed in place. "I'd rather run from it. But the Thalmor Bitch is going to take over in Alinor. It's only a matter of time." I took a deep breath and glanced between the two Generals. "I hate this just as much as the two of you like it, but it's the only choice. Tamriel is at its safest when a Dragonborn sits on the Throne of Cyrodiil."

_**Fahiil **_– _**Us**_

**Thera**

I breathed in the death screams of the last attacking Dawnguard members with a smile on my face. I didn't have the bow – I kicked one of the corpses' skulls – or the girl – I kicked it again – OR... or Lucius – I kicked again, and the head exploded from the force. Actually, I was enraged. No smile, just... pure, pissed off me. I wanted to torture someone in the worst possible way. "You'll never get him." And a volunteer.

I turned to the source of the voice. "Ah, Isran," I said, a cruel smile coming to my face. "You're alive..."

"He'll kill you," the man snapped. I frowned. Could he not hear me? I screamed loud enough for everyone in the room to jump, but just continued droning on.

"Hm. We must have deafened him," I muttered. I smiled and gestured for two of the Vampires to pull him to a standing position. "Now, Isran, you may not know what I'm saying, so I am going to show you." I pulled out a dagger and ran it across the underside of my forearm, causing a line of blood to appear. His eyes widened as he began to catch on. I appreciated his screams of rage for a moment, then continued explaining. "You see, you helped take away what I wanted. That's not a good move. So I will take what _you_ value the most. What would a Vampire Hunter value the most... any ideas, anyone?"

"Yes, his existence as a mortal," I continued before any of the idiots in the room could answer incorrectly. I grabbed Isran's face and forced his mouth open; he struggled until I kicked his crotch. At that, he doubled over and became docile. "All the best tortures break the will of their targets." I angled his mouth upwards and let my blood drip from my arm. It landed on his face, some draining up his nose. Most, though, fell down his throat. "Feed on him until only my blood is left. Then we'll let the torturers have him. Don't want an uppity slave, after all."

_**The Bard**_

"And with that, ends the second part of our tale," the man said. He glanced around at the enraptured stares of all present – even Wulf was smiling like he was entertained. It took him a moment to realize they were staring expectantly, waiting for more. "Unfortunately, that also ends the story for the day."

"Just... a little more!" one of the patrons begged, causing the entire group to rustle and begin shouting for more.

"Please, no... just... Tomorrow... QUIET!" the Bard snapped, causing his listeners – sans Wulf, who laughed instead – to cow in fear. "The inn's bar is closing. It's late. Come back tomorrow morn for more of the story. The tale of the Dragonborn is not over, I assure you, but I would be remiss to take a break in the center of a chapter, wouldn't I?" The crowd grumbled in assent. "Good. Go home. Rest. Enjoy the fruits of the Empire. You will hear more tomorrow."

As the crowd stood and began leaving the inn, the Bard noticed that Wulf was remaining behind yet again. "I knew you'd do this again," the Bard sighed. He raised his hand to shake that of the other man. "Talos."

Wulf smiled at that. "Been a while since anyone's called me that so openly," he said with a wolfish grin. "Nice to hear it, though."

"What do you wish of me this time, Divine?" the Bard asked. "Did someone steal your sweet roll?"

"Ha!" Wulf laughed, before growing intensely quiet. The god merely studied the man's face, then cocked his head to the side. "You tell this story well, Bard," he finally said, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so.

"Why?" the Bard asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Just take the compliments of a god, man," Talos suggested with a shrug. He turned and left, leaving the Bard to only consider what it was that the god was aware of.

**AN: And thus ends part 2 and begins part 3. We will jump ahead between five and ten years and see that the two Dragonborn have begun their Empires and have already started their first skirmishes in the War. These two states are going to be as different as the people that lead them, so I can't wait to build those up!**

**To answer one request... sorry UndeadMonkey8, but there will be a victor at the end of all this. Though whether it is Lucius or Thera...**

**Thank you all for reading all this. I can't believe it hasn't even been a year and we're already almost 170,000 words into this. Like I've said earlier, I was writing this with the intent of just hitting 80,000 words. Back then, 50,000 was as far as I'd gotten on any type of fiction, and... wow, I can't believe it now. I'm more than twice as far along as I'd hoped to be in this story, and I owe it to all of you. I love that people out there really seem to like my story and it gives me hope for the books I'm trying to write. So thank you all. You all rock.**


	54. Dragonborn:Dovahjun

**AN: And here we are, entering the Dragonborn Arc of this story. I'm excited for this; the timeskip will have our two Dragonborn becoming vastly different people, though their motivations remain mostly unchanged. Lucius has been hardened far too much by his losses, while Thera definitely takes to the life of an Empress. I hope the evolution of some of the followers from the game sound logical to everyone. This is a chapter focused more on Lucius' Empire and its upper echelons with a mere peak into Thera's. I hope you like it all.**

_**The Bard**_

The Bard winced as he stood up, feeling old pains shooting through his back. The Tale of the Dragonborn was a long one to tell, and he had been spending more time telling it to his patrons than he had anything else in the past few days. Food, sleep, personal enjoyment – all took to the wayside as he told the story once again. He looked around at the people gathered around him, their faces expectant.

The Bard didn't speak, instead looking around at the many people arranged around him. The nobleman was back, as were the sons of the city's blacksmith – shirking their duties to their studies, it seemed. However, no matter how hard the Bard looked around, Wulf did not seem to be present. Talos was not present, or at least not obviously so. That surprised the Bard more than anything else – the god had seemed intrigued by the telling of the story, so why would he disappear a short while before the tale reached its conclusion?

Perhaps it was nothing, maybe he had been mistaken when he had called the man Talos. Or perhaps the Divine preferred not to be seen as he truly is. In the end, the Bard could do little about that. What he could do, however, was tell the story. "Hello again, everyone," he said, smiling at the crowd assembled around him. He clapped his hands together and smiled. "Our story last ended with both of the Dragonborn feeling the sting of defeat at the other's hands. For Thera, the source of her ire was the loss of the Bow of Auri-El, the survival of Lucius, and the loss of the only other Daughter of Coldharbour of which she knew. For Lucius, twas the death of many of the Dawnguard, the massacre of the only one who could cure his Lady Love of her affliction, and the exile of Serana herself.

"Where we go now is further into their lives. As the wingbeats of Akatosh drove time ever onward, these two heroes found themselves at the center of the world's events. But no longer were they reacting to the desires, whims, and plans of those around them. No, they had decided the only way to achieve their goals was to conquer all of Tamriel, by force or by reason."

"Five years after the death of Lamae Beolfag, the _Jokaar_ were in the middle of a war. From the southwest, covering Elsweyr, Valenwood, Alinor, the south of Hammerfell, was the _Sanguinis Aldmeris_ _Dominion_, or the Dominion of the Aldmeri Blood. To the Northeast, controlling High Rock, the rest of Hammerfell, Skyrim, and Cyrodiil, was the _Atmorano Imperium_, the Empire of the Atmoran," the Bard explained, pulling a map from his pack on the floor. He unrolled it with a flick of his wrist and gestured at each of the nations in turn.

"But this war was not the only threat to all of Tamriel," the Bard continued. He moved one of his fingers to the edge of Skyrim. "From beyond the edge of both Empires grew a force of evil intent on spreading its reach across all of Nirn. A being older and more ancient than any, with the power to devour the souls of the Dragonborn and all the dragons they had destroyed before. They knew not what was coming, however, for their war was growing more dangerous by the day. Three years into their war, the Empire and Dominion clashed in the ruins of the Redguard city of Rihad..."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Delphine had grown to hate me in the past three years. Not in that she didn't like me, more in that she despised the fact I – the Emperor of Cyrodiil – was so set on leading my army from the front lines. As the head of the new Dragonguard based in the central building of the Imperial City, my – it's odd to say it even now – palace from where I reigned over the Empire, it was her duty to protect me. My jaunts through war zones tended to make that difficult, even for one of her skill. The newer recruits seemed to be thankful, though; Aela's training had a way of rubbing off on all of them.

I ducked beneath a spell cast by one of the soldiers against whom we fought. This one was a lieutenant in Thera's military it seemed. A Vampire, as all of her officers were. I charged the elf and buried Dawnbreaker in his chest, causing a massive explosion of Sun Magick to drench the world. Unfortunately, not many of the lesser soldiers were the undead, so it had little effect. As much as I hate to admit it, Thera was clever in matching many of my tactics. Early battles had been one sided either way; we've both learned much from each other in the art of war. Where once our armies had been oceans of bodies clashing for dominance, there now existed hardened forces with equally hardened commanders. We were getting very good at killing each other.

I turned in time to see an ax spinning through the air towards my skull. Most people would assume they were in danger. I, however, was not. The ax continued to approach for a moment, until an arrow slammed into its side and sent it spinning off. I turned to stare at Dorthe as she ran towards me.

"Damn it, Emperor Lucius, at least try to make my job easier," she said as she approached, firing off another streak of arrows into the crowds before looping the bow around her Akaviri Plate covered head and shoulders then drawing her Akaviri Katana. She had grown up much in the past five years. Gone was the young woman who had struggled to make her way into Solitude, replaced instead by a young woman who could one day become a hero in her own right. Jordis and Aela had trained her well; it was her natural ferocity that had made Delphine choose the young woman as my bodyguard, and her good heart that had caused me to approve. She was much like her cousin, gods rest his soul.

Hadvar had died a year before, leading the charge to take Skaven, our first attempt at taking land back from Thera's Empire rather than just defending our own. Naturally, as he was my brother in shield and soul, he was entombed in the Royal Crypt and his cousin had become something of an adoptive daughter to me. His statue stood in the center of the city he had freed, a symbol of hope and heroism.

"There was no need" I said, my gaze hard as I moved towards my next target. I blocked an incoming blow from my target – a Redguard with desperate, crazy eyes – then impaled him on my sword. "I have nearly ten layers of spells and enchantments concentrated on me right now. If a simple ax could end my life, then I would not be the greatest wizard in Tamriel. And you would be a rather unfitting bodyguard."

I cast an angry look down at the Redguard. Thera was very good. Her Empire, from what my spies told me, was incredibly stratified. At the bottom were the human slaves. Above them, the Beast folk. Next were the mortal Mer citizenry, who shared their position with vampires of all non-elven races. The top caste was that of Thera herself – Elven Vampires. Still, the fact they would still be second class citizens did little to stop those living in her Empire from attempting to win her curse through valor on the battle field. Save a select few – such as the child she kept at her side constantly – the humans gained little real power. I turned from the body without a word.

"Talos guide them," Dorthe said. I slowly nodded, though my heart wasn't in it. I returned my attention to the battle, as did my young bodyguard. She caught a blade on her Katana and flicked it away. I noticed a head roll past my feet as her attacker failed to defend himself.

I snarled as the battle raged on, and I raised my palm to begin casting one of my newer spells I had created. The energy flared up for a moment, and purple lightning lanced from my hand. It curved around the bodies of my warriors, leaving only dust in their wake as they cut down the Dominion soldiers by the dozens. My soldiers let out a roar of courage as the magic disappeared, their hearts emboldened by my spell. "The Divines are on our side!" one of the men shouted before leading a charge into the ranks of the small pockets of resistance that remained, tearing the elves and their slaves to shreds.

"Do you always have to do that?" Dorthe asked from beside me. "I was beating you."

"This is not a competition. Regardless, the men needed the morale," I replied coolly, sheathing Dawnbreaker and removing my helm. I glanced around the battlefield, observing the carnage and trying to force myself not to care. The battle would be declared a victory, and I was sure that the newly freed citizenry of the city would agree. Too many of the men died for my tastes, though. The families of the fallen would be invited to the Imperial City for their public Honorifics and the awarding of the Hadvar Blade of Honor during the lull in the war that came with the intense heat of summer in southern Tamriel. In fact, this was likely the end of our assault until the autumnal season. "A final, quick victory before they aid the region in their training and resupply actions. Rayya will be up to the task for the next few months."

"I'm sure she will," Dorthe said with a sigh. She sheathed her Katana and crossed her arms. "But you shouldn't make a target of yourself like that, Emperor." Ah, she wasn't using my name. That's how she always behaved when she was angered by my more rash decisions. Something that most of the Blades recruits had picked up from Delphine. "It's dangerous to draw attention to yourself on a battlefield."

"I have no need for your warnings," I responded. I clutched the weapon at my side and looked across the battlefield, then wordlessly began to return to the war camp. Another battle closer to Thera, the only thing that mattered. "Send word to the Council. I expect to see them in the White Gold Tower when we arrive in the Imperial City. We need to set up the plans for the next phase of the war."

"Emperor Lucius," Dorthe muttered, rushing up to walk in tandem with me. "Uncle Luc!"

"What?" I growled, casting a glare at the young woman as I walked. She had taken off her helmet, letting her braid fall down her shoulder. She looked like her mother, with a hint of her father's family.

"You're not acting like yourself," she told me.

"I am acting no different than I have for -"

"The past five years. Aye," she finished for me. I shook my head with a scoff and walked faster. "What happened to my cousin's brother?"

I stopped and turned towards Dorthe yet again. "He sailed away to parts unknown more than five years ago," I responded. I placed my hand on her shoulder and shoved past her. "I hope he isn't dead."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I moaned as I extricated myself from beneath a group of my half-drained Thralls, taking some blood with my fingers and licking it off. "Mmm... Bosmer," I muttered, stepping over that specific body. It was yet another of Lucius' spies who was incapable of keeping herself from being discovered. Sending Mer was a clever move on his part, but it was easy to see through the weak minded fools who would follow a human. I should thank him, really, for sending them; I was running low on Bosmer blood. I couldn't very well murder all of those living in my kingdom, as killing one's army is a poor decision when one is at war.

I moved through the small army of my mentally frozen Thralls, their dying minds pushing out a few words. "Please..." a human muttered as I passed. I simply patted his shoulder and bit into his wrist.

"Good breakfast," I said a moment later, smiling at the slave. He shuddered, but said nothing. The silence was broken by the sound of a hand rapping against the door to my chambers.

"Babette," I sighed as I opened the door slightly. The face of a Breton child stared up at me, eyes filled with annoyance. "What is this time?"

"You're late, your Grace," she said with a frown. She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at me.

"Babette, you know you shouldn't talk to me like that," I growled.

"If I didn't, you'd never come to Court," she retorted, drawing a laugh from me.

"Too true," I admitted, smiling down at her from behind the door; Babette didn't appreciate standing waist level with naked elves. "Summon the less broken Thralls for the morning routine, and I'll be on my way down."

Babette sighed, but nodded. "At least you didn't open the door all the way this time," she muttered as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was, of course, referencing the first time I had answered the door to my room and thrown the door open. It had been an uncomfortable experience; even I do not like living down a child – even if she is really older than I myself am – walking in on me.

I smiled down at Babette. It was not often that any human, even a Vampire, amused me this much. She was my favorite servant, and the closest being I had to a... 'friend.' But as the head of an Empire of Elves and Vampires, friends would only be a weakness. So I merely allowed my servant to amuse me. Besides, it would be best to keep my personal assassin happy. "You'll never let me live that down," I sighed, shaking my head for her benefit. "Well, go get the more aware Thralls. I need to be dressed."

"Yes, Listener," Babette said, still shaking her head as she walked away.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stood in my Imperial Robes, open palms resting atop the round table containing a sand and stone built replica of Tamriel. Figures representing armies dotted the landscape, protecting the borders of the fledgling Empire or advancing into the surrounding areas. A token representing a diplomat – both one of mine and one of Thera's – was placed at the center of Morrowind as they campaigned to add the land of the Dunmer to the guard of the Empire, be it as an ally or as a protectorate. The latter, of course, would be preferred. "Lucius," Tullius muttered, voicing his concerns about my anger. They all did, from time to time. The Empire had become increasingly aggressive towards the Dominion in the past two years. They all knew it was necessary, but my fervor gave even Delphine pause at times.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to shove down my irritation while I spoke to him. He was older than before, the Civil War and the current war weighing heavily upon him. His already thin hair was gone completely now, and his eyes had grown gaunt over the past five years. He was a strong man, but even the strongest men had their breaking points. His had been approaching rapidly, so I had assigned him for the time being to act as my personal aide during the war; the front lines had left his body behind years earlier, though his mind was still an extremely useful one.

He put his hand on my shoulder. "I think perhaps we should focus on the anniversary celebration for end of Summer," he said, trying to draw my attention from the war and towards something less draining. "It's a time of peace, for now. Let's deal with something to reward the people for their faith."

"He's right," Tolfdir said from the other side of the table. The new Archmage of the Mages' Guild crossed his arms and sighed. His resplendent purple robes heaved with his shoulders. "We have to cover what Magickal games and events the Guild will set up for the people."

"The Fighters' Guild also needs to set up the jousting and dueling tourneys for the Arena," Uthgerd said. She was wearing stylized plate armor branded with the symbol of the guild she had joined, and now led, after following me to Cyrodiil. The Unbroken leader of the Fighters' Guild had, at my insistence, formed close ties between the the Guild and the Companions, given their intense similarities. I believed that the Guild could learn much from the structure and behaviors of the Companions, and my successor Vilkas did as well.

"Not to mention the uncountable security risks that your unnecessary desire to take part in the games causes," Delphine pointed out from the corner of the room, leaning against the wall. She wore the armor of the Grandmaster of the Blades, plate formed from the bones of long dead dragons. The protrusions were etched with golden filigree in the shape of men and dragons waging war. Dorthe was quiet beside her, observing the room around us as was her duty. "And coordinating for Balgruuf's visit during the festival."

"So you're suggesting that I end my quest for peace," I stated angrily.

"I'm suggesting you end your quest for vengeance," Tullius said with a disapproving scowl plastered on his face. "Rikke told me everything. Idgrod is worried about you and told her everything when they last met. She hoped the General of the North could perhaps get through to you. She passed word on to me."

"That is not the only reason," I snarled, returning my attention to the war table. "Millions languish under the rule of Vampires – _Vampires_, Tullius. I fought one war against a Vampire who wished to rule Tamriel. I would not see the sacrifices of all who fought her to be in vain."

"And they won't be!" Florentius snapped, finally speaking up. "I was there, too, Luc. Even Isran wouldn't want you to... become Isran!" I glared over at the monk for a moment, but he continued. "Arkay says that you should enjoy this life before you must enter his domain."

"I have no plans to die," I responded. My vision blurred for a moment and I felt a shudder of exhaustion run down my spine. "Not until I've already won this entire gods damned war."

"Then what's the harm in enjoying four months of peace?" Delphine asked. I frowned. The fact she was trying to get me to calm down said a lot.

Still. "No. I can feel it. Something is... coming," I muttered.

I jolted as the noise of knuckles rapping against wood echoed through the room. I sighed and pushed myself away from the table. If the servants were interrupting me, then whatever it was must have sounded important even to those who did not know the specifics of the war. "Speak of the Daedra... Enter," I commanded, shifting to stare at the door. I clasped my hands behind my back and set my brow as the young man stepped through.

He was panting heavily, eyes wide. From the sweat on his brow, it was clear that the boy had sprinted up to the room from the atrium of the Palace. He looked afraid and worried. I placed my hand on the handle of Dragonbane at my hip; it was the blade I used when not in direct battle with Thera's forces. It made me feel... as if Paarthurnax stood at my side even now. Speaking of, the Greybeards had decided that Thera had indeed fallen from their path, though they still thought of me as a monster as well. To them, leading an Empire was to surrender to the evil in your heart. "Well?" I asked, growing impatient with the servant.

"Your Eminence," the boy said, standing up and composing himself. He took a deep breath to calm himself and frowned. "I... Sir, you have some rather strange visitors."

"Is that all?" I growled. He had interrupted my war council for _this_?

"Your Eminence, they say that they are agents of the True Dragonborn. They wish an audience."

I glanced over at Dorthe. "Are they still in the Atrium?" I asked the servant.

"Yes, Your Grace," he said, bowing.

"Come, Dorthe," I said, pushing past the young man. Thera had thought to send diplomats? Assassins? It mattered little which. When they inevitably tried to kill me, I would gladly do away with them. "We have visitors."


	55. Dragonborn:Messengers

**AN: I'm sorry this took so long. I've had a hard month. College is going... it's difficult right now, but I'm managing. I hope you're all doing well, and I hope you all keep enjoying this story. That you like it often brings me joy when I'm sad, happiness when I'm angry. Calm in my storm. Thanks – you all rock.**

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I walked into my throne room wearing the most resplendent armor and cloak in my Empire, a blade crafted from the bones of dragons at my side, the hilt crowned with jewels. The entirety of my Court surged to their feet and watched as I moved slowly and deliberately towards my throne. It was a solid wood chair, carved millennia prior by the greatest of the Bosmer enchanters from the wood of a now dead Bosmer City Tree. It would be uncomfortable, if it weren't for the cushion filled with a layer of down as thick as my arm. I would be both comfortable and regal.

As I sat down, so too did my Court. "Send in these visitors," I commanded, crossing my legs and waiting for them to enter. My guards nodded and marched towards the door, opening it slowly to let in the light. I squinted in disgust as the sunlight hit me for a moment, as did most of the Vampires in the Court, and smiled contentedly as the doors shut behind the two visitors. They were dressed oddly, wearing masks carved from bone in the shape of a tentacled monster. Similarly crafted ridges ran down their right arms, over their robes. "Now, why would Lucius send us two ambassadors? Hm? He knows that I will kill you both."

"We would never serve _false_ Dragonborn," one of the freaks responded with a yell. He scoffed and shook his masked head. "We are servants of the _True_ Dragonborn!"

"So you say again," I said, bored by these two little fools. "Well here I am. You may bow."

The other one snarled and took a step forward, only to be stopped by the weapons of my guards at his throat. "You? You are a - are a damnable pretender!"

I nodded at one of the guards and the visitor suddenly found himself without an arm. He screamed and fell to the ground, his blood spurting from the wound. "You would do well not to cross a room full of Vampires." I grinned and shook my head. Finally, I said, "Sear the wound shut; I don't want everyone here going in for a drink before I can find out what I want." The guards nodded and raised glowing fists. Streams of flames erupted from their outstretched arms, searing the wound shut to the sound of the visitor's screams. I returned my attention to the visitor who was not a screaming mess. "Now, how about you tell me what in the gods damned world you want?"

The mask's eyes locked onto mine, glaring with fevered rage. "You dare strike the servants of the True Dragonborn!?"

"As I said – I am right here," I growled, standing from my throne and marching down towards the little man. "Do not tempt me, fool. Reveal your purpose to me, then die."

"We are here on the orders of our God, the True Dragonborn. He wishes for you to come and revel in his glory on the Isle of Solstheim," the visitor finally snarled, putting his face close to mine. "To bow to him as he takes the world in his hand."

I smiled and drew the blade from my side. "That... is my thing," I said mockingly. Then I buried the weapon in his chest, and it was over. I looked over at the other one, then up at my court. I pulled my weapon from the dead visitor's chest and gestured to them. "You may take what you want." Then I turned towards my throne and waved for my Council to follow, grinning at the fact that I finally had an enemy to kill. "I have new information to consider."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Dorthe and I met these strange travelers alone, in the most private of areas I could think of – my training room. It was cleaned daily, as my training sessions usually ended with blood on the ground. The workers would be surprised, but able to cope if they found bodies on the floor. For now, Dorthe and I had to speak with them.

They were an odd pair, wearing matching brown robes, with masks in the shape of a tentacled beast. Seemed like Hermaeus Mora worshipers, to me. But also... not. They were clearly different from the Mora devotees I had seen before, with an almost warrior like edge to them rather than the usual scholarly mania that I was accustomed to with his supplicants. "And you are?" I asked, my hand resting on the hilt of Dragonbane, ready to defend and attack at the slightest provocation.

"The servants of the True Dragonborn," the one to my left said, raising his hands to the heavens. "Praise be his unutterable name."

"Well that confirms you aren't Mora's worshipers. And you obviously don't work for Thera, what with her being a she," I said, glancing between the two men. Dorthe followed my eyes, her own filled with resolve as she did. She would not let them get close to hurting me, though I was not concerned. "Who is this 'True Dragonborn' that you speak of?"

"The great Miraak has sent us to invite you and test you for the island of Solstheim. He is the True Dragonborn, you pretender to his throne," the one to my right spat, his leather clad fists clenching tight as he did.

I scoffed and smiled at the ground, eyes closed. "I thought his name was unutterable," I taunted. He coughed angrily, his breath stuck in his chest. I shrugged. "Make your attempt on my life, then," I commanded, pulling my hand away from Dragonbane and holding my hands up. "I'll let you have the first attack, even."

"Lucius," Dorthe cautioned, her voice low and angry.

I raised my hand and shook my head. "Let them try. I promise that you'll be entertained," I muttered, my smile turning into a thin, angry line across my face.

Dorthe growled, but did as her Emperor commanded. "Yes, your Grace."

I looked up at the two strangers, who had taken a step away from me. The sheer force of my confidence was scaring them. It should. "Well? I won't counter with my blade at all." I unclipped Dragonbane from my belt and tossed it to Dorthe, whose scowl was deepening every moment I kept speaking. "Just let me make sure before you do die – Solstheim, correct?"

"You defiler!" I grinned as he screamed this, drawing an ax from his hip and slashing down at my head. I channeled a small stream of Magicka through my right hand, then let the blade crash into my skin. It bounced off, a dent in the shape of my face in the blade.

"It's called Dragonskin. It's a spell that I developed with a friend of mine. Stronger than any armor I've been able to make," I said as I pulled my sleeves up to above my elbow. I stuck my hand out, palm up. "Please, try again." I grinned as he slammed the ax into my hand, and it shattered. As soon as it did, I leaped forward, grabbing the two by their masks and altering the flow of Magicka in my hands. "I told you this wouldn't end well." And then I let pure streams of flames fly from my palms, roasting the two and killing them before they could even come up with a reply.

I dropped the bodies after only a few seconds and began pulling my sleeves down to my wrists again. I felt alive. Finally, a threat that I could defeat. It was like the old days, fighting Alduin or Harkon. A conflict with someone who wanted me to come to his seat of power and defeat him. The fate of the world, in my hands and only mine. A nice change of pace from the war, where I had to trust so many with so much. "Dorthe, I want you to collect some of my personally forged light armor from the armory for yourself. I'll be outfitting myself later. Oh, and you'll need a different sword. We don't want people knowing that the Emperor and a Blade have snuck out of the Empire."

"Um... what?" she asked as I took Dragonbane from her.

"Yes. Grab a cloak, a few sacks of gold," I said as I turned to the bodies and almost said the words I had long since cast off. Almost. "Oh, and don't tell Delphine. She'll throw a fit. Let me talk with Florentius... and Tolfdir. They'll not only be fine with this, but they'll help us."

"I don't know if I'm fine with this," Dorthe muttered.

"Oh, hush," I said, waving off her protests. "Besides, Tolfdir's been wanting to test out a spell for disguising someone as my body double for months. I apparently have to be outside of the city limits for it to work, that way no one can try and pretend to be me with it."

"Emperor..." Dorthe growled.

I smiled wildly at her. "Don't you get it? I get go out there, into the world. Do something that feels like I'm actually helping people – nothing you say or threaten will change my mind. So you can either come and protect me, or..."

Her eyes narrowed as I played my hand. I won. "Yes, Grace," she said with a stiff bow. "Though we will have words on our travels."

"We ride at dawn!" I cried as I walked away from her, ignoring her statement so as to not bring my mood down.

Fahiil

Thera

I stood with my war council in the darkest reaches of my palace, waiting for their responses to what I had said was going to happen. Babette seemed the most intrigued, the head of my assassins wanting me to preemptively destroy any threat that came my way. I knew she would agree with me – she was clever like I am, which is why I kept her around despite her human handicap. Honestly, her bloodlust even gave me pause every so often.

To her right, my head mage – a woman I had turned in return for her loyalty named Nirya – looked excited. She began to explain why after a moment. "I must admit, the possibility of another Dragonborn existing is... intriguing," she said, grinning wildly. "Perhaps you can bring me his body, or corpse if need be, so I can study the Magicks that exist in it?"

"That was my intent," I said with a smile. Anything that would help me understand how to kill Lucius would be of utmost import. "Now... how do we go about making everyone believe I'm still here?"

"I may have an idea," Babette piped up. "I knew something would eventually come along and distract from the war. You have always liked to deal with things... hands on. I've been surprised it has taken this long."

"Well, what's your idea?" I asked, leaning against the Altar of Bal in the center of the room. "Speak up for the class."

"We say you have entered into communion with Molag Bal for the summer months," she said simply. "You are the Empress of the Night, so no one would consider this out of the ordinary. You will be able to leave the Empire in secret, for at least a few months, and do as you will. This is the perfect time, after all. The war will be on pause for the duration of the summer, so no one will be begging for your attention. This is the best time for this to happen."

"I like it," I said, smiling darkly. I surged upward, reinvigorated. I had a war I could fight myself, power to usurp that was not guarded by my enemies. "I think it's time to pay this so called 'god' a visit."

Jul

Lucius

I sat atop my prized steed in crimson and gold traveling clothes, Dragonskin gleaming on my skin in the light of dawn. I was overlooking the Imperial City from a hill to the north. It looked beautiful from afar, like something that was worth fighting for as the sunlight glanced off of its ivory towers. I was still waiting for Dorthe as I turned to watch the sunrise. I'd give her another five minutes before conceding that she had probably told Delphine, who would send half the Blades to keep me from going. I was the Emperor, and I was a prisoner in my own lands.

Well, that, _and_ I'd taken the Bow of Auri-El.

It was a rash move, I know. I believe that Delphine would call it 'unforgivable.' But something in my gut told me that I needed to do it. It was like it was not just my destiny to take the weapon to Solstheim, but it was the weapon's destiny to follow me. Florentius told me that Arkay agreed, meaning I definitely had the favor of the gods on my side in this case. "How long until you decide to leave without me?" a familiar voice asked, accompanied by the footsteps of a horse.

I smiled and looked over at Dorthe as she climbed the hill. "Well, if you didn't get here soon I was worried that you would have told Delphine the truth," I explained. I grinned thankfully. "I'm grateful you're coming with me."

"Like you said," she began, shrugging in her studded leather armor, "you were going to go with or without me. Might as well make sure you have someone by your side while you act like an idiot. Someone who can get you out of the huge damn problems that you make whenever you do... anything."

"So you've learned it's better to just go along with it, then?" I asked, grinning. I nodded. "Good decision. You understand what Delphine has always had trouble even seeing: you can't stop Dragonborn once they've made a decions."

Dorthe snorted derisively. "Even a moronic one," she shot. I laughed boisterously, and she cocked her head to the side. "You seem unusually happy."

I looked up at the sky. "I do, don't I?" I asked. I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, taking it in. It was nice, to feel like myself again. "I don't have to be the Emperor, and... something else."

"What is it?" Dorthe asked, cantering next to me.

I looked down and pulled my steed towards the north. "Like I'm going home," I said quietly. Then I dug my heels into the beast's sides and it took off at a full gallop towards the City of Kings. The air was alive with a feeling that I found so... familiar. Something was calling me, something that I yearned for in the Soul of my Soul. Looking back, I should have realized what it was. I feel like an idiot now, knowing the truth. Heading home is exactly what I was doing.


	56. Apology: Reason for Recent Break

Hey Everyone,

Been a while, huh? I'm sorry about that, because I really like this story. I know what I want to do with it in the long run, with the overarching story. I have all the main beats planned out. This story is happening, it will be finished.

However, I've noticed recently in this story that the quality of my writing has dipped. And that's unacceptable. Especially for a story with so much potential. I need to be re-inspired, re-invigorated for the Elder Scrolls. I need to play through _Dragonborn_ again, imagine the specifics: who is allied with whom, how the side quests interact with Luc and Thera, the nitty gritty stuff. I need to figure out how they get to the big things that I see down the line, and when I get there I think you'll love it. I just don't want it to be something I've typed out haphazardly because I was afraid about falling behind a schedule I'd kept since the start.

For the prior two story arcs, I started by playing through the quest line before writing, which worked well because I played a mission, figured out what I wanted to do, wrote it, and moved on to the next quest. Unfortunately it's faster to beat _Skyrim_ than write a story. And I've got a lot going on right now, so it's going to be a couple months before I can really dive into the addiction that is _Skyrim_ again. But don't worry. Like I said, I like this story, so as soon as I _know_ the journey of how Luc and Thera get to Apocrypha, it'll be written. Count on it.

Until then, I leave you with one hint of things to come. _Dov Mal. _

Be back soon,

MasterCaedus


	57. Dragonborn:Dunmer Allies

**AN: Hey everyone, finally back! I've started playing Skyrim over again and have an idea of where I want the next sections to go. I'm playing it alongside writing this, so I'll be able to update once I reach each mission.**

**ArtimuosJackson: I'm not planning on having Thera get stuck in Apocrypha, but I agree that it shouldn't get drawn out. After Dragonborn there will probably be only a five to ten chapter (at the very most) section detailing the last battle between the two of them and seeing what they will leave behind afterwards.**

**PS, I probably won't update as often as I used to, given that I'll update as I play the game, but at least I'm back, huh? It's... good.**

**A special thanks to hauserjohn6 and Ten-Tailed-God for alerting me to the fact that this fic updated with text code. I don't know why it did – I updated another twenty minutes before this one and it was fine.**

**_Jul_**

**Lucius**

The salty air of the ocean had a familiar, enjoyable chill to it, immediately bringing back old memories I had not thought on in ages. Every breeze carried with it the scent of a different battle, every chill a reminder of a different night on the plains of Whiterun hold. I felt other, more painful memories begin to dredge themselves to the surface, and immediately crushed them beneath my heel. I needed to remain focused and battle ready, not despondent and thinking of a woman I may never find. I glanced over to Dorthe as I finished strapping on my light, but incredibly sturdy, travel armor and disguise. It was comprised of thin, enchanted ebony light armor as strong as Dragonskin. The chest piece was covered by a long, brown leather duster reaching down to my mid calves. On either shoulder of the jacket was emblazoned the sigil of the Imperial Aid Ambassador corp, an Imperial Dragon over a nine sided shape, each line representing one of the provinces of the Old Empire. Dorthe was dressed similarly, though her uniform had a symbol of lower rank emblazoned on the armor than my own. Ostensibly, I would be here as an agent sent to curry favor with the Families who ruled Morrowind. Which, when I defeated this Miraak, I had little doubt I would. "Well?"

Dorthe glanced over, frowning at me. She still wasn't happy that I'd unilaterally decided to go gallivanting away off on an adventure tens of hundreds of miles from the seat of an Empire poised to take over half of the known world. "'Well' what?"

"Well, how does it feel?" I asked as the boat moved around the octagonal rock outcroppings rising from the water. The brown and gray sky flashed deep red for a moment, bringing an evil chill down my spine. "We could visit the memorial site on our way home, if you want."

Dorthe glanced up at the sky. "No. No, that won't be necessary, E – Luc," she responded. Her gaze fell and she crossed her arms uncomfortably. "Riverwood isn't home anymore."

I nodded simply and let her assume she was over what had happened to her. "Of course," I replied. She had to face her past on her own terms, as did I.

"Wouldn't you rather visit Morthal, anyways?" Dorthe asked, looking over at me with empathy filled eyes. She held out an arm and placed it on my shoulder and I tensed up, staring silently towards the rapidly approaching port. "Luc, she's... alive, at least. That's a chance."

"One that is very far off," I muttered, moving towards the edge of the boat and stepping off just as it reached the port, walking towards the entrance into the settlement with my hands clasped behind my back. My wrists dragged against the tip of Auri-El's Bow at the small of my back as I walked on, its presence reminding me more and more of... something yet to come. "Besides, there is more for us to worry about at the moment. We should meet with the leader of Raven Rock to make our intentions clear. Perhaps we will even find out what he knows about this 'Miraak.'"

I led Dorthe into the home of First Councilor Lleril Morvayn, the leader of the Raven Rock settlement on the isle of Solstheim. He was a middle aged Dunmer with lighter eyes than most Dark Elves and bright orange hair. He was wearing fine furs that seemed to give him more in common with the Nords on the mainland than with his own sharp featured bretheren. Of course, that didn't mean he was any less arrogant. The Dark Elves are a very unique people, especially since the eruption of the Red Mountain. A people of Daedra worshipers who had turned in droves to Talos due to the missionary work of the Old Empire after their diaspora from their homeland, they made up a very special demographic that spread across both my Empire and Thera's. They retained their usual disdain for most other races, especially the other 'lesser' Mer folk, but had a tense acceptance of every race that allowed them their customs.

I had learned much about the Councilor himself, as Solstheim had already been a location of great interest. Despite the drying up of its Ebony mines, the town was an important symbol to the leadership of the Dunmer, a recognition that expansion beyond the borders of their homeland did not mean abandoning their way of life. If I set about helping the people of the island, it was incredibly likely that Morvayn – a respected member of the ruling Dunmer family House Redoran – would petition his people's council to throw their full weight behind the Empire. And if the Ebony mine could somehow be reopened, my military's strength could nearly double from such powerful materials. "And to what do we owe the honor of an Imperial Aid Ambassador marching unannounced into my home?" the First Councilor asked, eyes sparkling.

I bowed low, motioning for Dorthe to do the same at my side. My sword and bow clanked together as my chest fell and rose in turn. "Councilor Morvayn, it is our honor to stand before you and offer ourselves as your servants in any matter for which aid is necessary," I said before locking my gaze with Morvayn's. While many Dunmer preferred it when other races deferred to a Dark Elf's will, our information on Morvayn suggested something altogether different. He respected strong wills. "And also to inquire about a matter on this island our Emperor finds of the utmost import."

"We aren't selling the Ebony mines. They're empty anyways," the First Councilor stated. He smiled bitterly and crossed his arms in his chair. "They're as ashen and dry as this whole damn island."

"The Emperor has yet to express interest in taking the mines, regardless of how much the metals flow. At least, to the best of my knowledge. No, rather, an assassin was sent from this island approximately three weeks ago. His attempt on the Emperor's life was unsuccessful, but he mentioned a 'Miraak,' and information found on his body led us to your town. Might you know where I could find this cult leader?" I asked.

Morvayn frowned and looked at the floor. "Miraak... I am unsure. It seems as if I don't even remember if I have forgotten. I remember a... temple on this island. Yes, that seems right," he muttered before glancing up at me. "Fine. There is a temple, I believe. Speak with my guard captain just outside of the city's walls and he will tell you where it is. First, however, I intend to make use of your promise of aid. Many of our guardsmen and citizens are... indisposed as of now, and there have been troubling reports coming from beyond the walls of Raven Rock, Imperial. Captain Veleth will have all the information you need on this topic. Aid him, then do as you will regarding this 'Miraak,' Sera..."

"Lucius. Legate Lucius Ashcroft of Cyrodiil, Sera," I responded with a military salute. It wasn't a lie, really; Legate was the highest rank I had attained in the military before my ascension to the throne. "And this is my protegee, Quaestor Dorthe Bladesmith of Skyrim." I motioned at the unamused Blade, daughter of a blacksmith.

"Then thank you, Sera Lucius, Sera Dorthe. Tribunal smile upon you," Morvayn responded. He gestured towards the door; it was time for us to fulfill our promises. Dorthe and I bowed once more, then exited the building.

As we moved towards the main gate of the settlement, I felt something drifting in the wind. I turned and looked over my shoulder through the mostly empty streets. On the other side of the town, at the edge of the sea, was a black spire surrounded by stone. Dozens of Dark Elves worked tirelessly to build a web like skeleton which surrounded the spire, and even from as far as we were I could hear their indistinct chanting. So that is what Morvayn meant with his euphemistic 'indisposed.' I smelled the work of a Dragonborn in the air. "This bodes ill," I grunted as I whirled my coat and began to walk again.

"What has ever bode well with you?" Dorthe shot back as the remaining guards slowly opened the door of the gate. The chains creaked for a moment before there was enough room for my considerable height to exit. As soon as we cleared it, the door fell and slammed into the ground. Ash flew everywhere, tainting my armor a dull grey. Dorthe's fared little better.

"I -" I stopped, listening closely. I held up a hand to quiet Dorthe so I could focus, then drew my blade and ran off.

"Em – Legate!" Dorthe snapped, chasing after me with blade drawn.

I ran through the ash doggedly as the noise of spells and the ringing of a blade through the air grew ever louder. Flames danced across my vision and, for a moment, I could feel my heart begin to race as it once had. "_Dii qeth paar daar!_" I felt the rumble escape my throat before I could stop it, and the world suddenly shook. But it mattered little. With Dragonbane glinting in the dull light, I erupted onto the scene of the battle. Two dull and decrepit forms which seemed to be made of ash were attacking a Dunmer adorned in yellow-brown armor – Bonemold. The Dark Elf, despite being outnumbered, seemed to be handling himself well. Still, I wasn't one to not help.

Dragonbane ran forward before I could think, the weapon burying itself hilt deep in the chest of the nearest creature. It turned slowly, revealing a hideous mask of pain. It was obviously an undead of some kind, likely one of those who had died centuries ago during the eruption of the Red Mountain. The blade in its chest did little to deter it, however, and it turned to attack. I grunted and pulled my blade out, using it to slice cleanly through the ash and rock club arm that had come my way. "Fus!" I shouted, and the ash of the creature found itself spread by the winds. I turned before the other could attack and unleashed a stream of powerful Frost magick, freezing it solid. Slowly, the magickal flames on its skin died away and I was left to place my weapon at my hip once again.

"Well, Serah. I'll have to thank you for that!" the Dark Elf shouted as he walked up behind me.

"Really?" Dorthe whined as she ran up and saw the frozen creature. "I missed out on the battle." I smirked. Ever the Nord at heart, she was.

After a moment, however, I sighed and turned around. With a smile born from feeling at peace from battling to save another, I said, "Captain Veleth, I presume? I'm told you have a job that needs doing."

**_Fahiil_**

**Thera**

_"Here in his shrine_

_That they have forgotten_

_Here do we toil_

_That we might remembered_

_By night we reclaim_

_What by day was stolen_

_Far from ourselves_

_He grows ever near to us_

_Our eyes once were blinded_

_Now through him do we see_

_Our hands once were idle_

_Now through them does he speak_

_And when the world shall listen_

_And when the world shall see_

_And when the world remembers_

_That world shall cease to be."_

That was the mantra that echoed in my mind as my body moved as a slave's, slowly building up... something. I could only scream in rage and hatred at whatever force had rooted me in the spot since I touched the glowing stone just outside of Raven Rock. I could comprehend things that were being said, though they sounded far off and vague unless it was the same hymn that consumed my mind. No matter what I did, however, I could not escape the prison of my own body.

Until suddenly, I could. The air rumbled with a familiar power and the wind shifted in my hair. My golden-red eyes went from glazed over to clear as the wind that smelled faintly of Dragon scales collided with my face. "... just like the – Ah! So you appear to be able to resist the effect by exerting your will. Fascinating! I would not advise touching the stone again. The effects of repeated contact could be...Unless of course you'd like to contribute to my investigation. It could be very enlightening to observe you. No? Do you hear me? You there! Halfling. You don't seem to be in quite the same state as the others. Very interesting..." I turned towards the source of the voice. It was a Dunmer mage, dressed in the rich purple and golden robes customary of the House Telvanni. His hair was sheared short and his goatee tapered to a long point. His voice seemed bored, no matter what he said and it was clear he did not care at all what anyone else thought. "May I ask what it is you're doing here?"

I frowned momentarily, then nodded. "You may," I responded as my faculties returned to me. This one could be useful. "Not long ago, I met members of a cult that originated on this island."

"Ah, the Cult of Miraak is sending out missionaries now? I see the hospitality they take to on this island is just as well received in the Warlands," the wizard remarked dryly, using the popular modern colloquialism amongst the Dunmer for lands that were not owned by the Houses of Morrowind. "Who are you, target of Miraak?"

I considered that question carefully. To lie to a Telvanni wizard was a... perilous prospect. Rumor – likely spread by the Wizards themselves – said that they could use Daedric Magicks most other races had forgotten or destroyed in order to play with the fabric of one's mind and see the truth of the matter. A lie could easily result in him abandoning me for either not respecting him, or – if my lie was not grandiose enough and he did not care enough to check who I was – abandoning me for not deserving his time. That I could not afford, given his apparent knowledge of this Miraak and – likely – other matters on the island. On the other hand, the truth of the matter could be just as dangerous as well. Morrowind's ruling council was a bunch of backstabbing oafs who would sell me to the Empire in a second if they knew my whereabouts and decided it was in their best interests. It was a danger that I could respect, even if I despised being on the receiving end of it. I decided on a... half truth of sorts. "I serve the true Empress of Nirn," I said quietly, matching gazes with the Wizard. His bored eyes did not look surprised as he gazed upon my red glass armor. "I am her most secret shadow, her right and left hand. Her blade."

"A Vampire then," the Telvanni noted dryly. "I suppose you have a name, Shadow?"

"Shadow will do fine," I said coolly. No need to reveal too much to the man before he was indebted to me. A Telvanni wizard would have friends in high places on the Council, friends I could exploit to strengthen my position on Tamriel. "And you, Wizard? Who are you? What are you doing here."

"Neloth, the greatest Wizard in all of House Telvanni, Master of Enchanting, Seeker of Knowledge Most Profane, and most powerful Sorceror on Nirn," Neloth replied, his hand flourishing and raising to the sky to make him look as arrogant as possible. He looked down at me condescendingly. "I am here to rectify a gap in my knowledge. Usually I would stay home and conduct my research in peace. Everything's so much more convenient there. But, given that something seems to be taking control of the minds of all the inhabitants, I thought it worth investigating."

"And why do you share my resistance to this... presence?" I inquired as I stepped from the waters surrounding the Stone. "Great Neloth." I added with a small bow.

The bow seemed to get him to open up, and he smiled. "Good you know your place," he said, grating my nerves already. It had been long since I had to allow another to believe themselves above me, and I suddenly remembered why I had stopped. Still, necessity breeds terrible actions. "I have gone to some pains to ensure that I am immune to many forms of control. I cannot say for certain which is currently protecting me, but it bears further investigation at some point."

"Ah."

He studied me for a moment, but did not ask me why I was immune. Likely, he had guessed already who I was and decided my answer was truthful enough while also respecting the cleverness of my lie. "You wish to know more of Miraak's cult, yes?" he inquired after a moment. His head cocked to the side.

"The Cult? I have no use for fools and weaklings following a mortal," I responded earnestly. "If one would send Assassins into the Dominion, I have only eyes for his throat."

The Wizard laughed approvingly. "Well then, there is only one path forward for you: I will tell you where his temple is located on this Island. If, of course, you aid me in an endeavor first."

I growled low. "Why is it never 'I'll help you then you'll help me?'"

"Because I don't remotely trust a Vampire to aid me after I give them information," Neloth said simply as he turned on his heel. I, unfortunately, could not disagree with his logic. Perhaps this one could be useful beyond his mere connections. "Come along. I have need for an Assassin such as yourself, and I would be delighted to converse on why a simple human who died tens of thousands of years ago wants you dead, O _Empress of Nirn_."


	58. Dragonborn:Currying Favor

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Dorthe, the Captain, and I were digging through the dense remains of the undead creatures that we had confronted earlier, the stench of ancient Death surrounding us and drifting on the winds. We were searching for some clue as to the origins of the creatures who had so often been attacking Raven Rock. "Do you mind me asking what these things are?" Dorthe inquired, eager to break the growing silence. I shot her a look, but otherwise remained silent. I had to admit that the question had been on my mind as well.

"Ash Spawn, Sera," Captain Veleth responded, taking a break from sifting through his pile of ash and frowning. "They've been attacking the settlement for years, just an assault of one or two when they wandered too close to the gates. Now they lay traps and wait for the few of our scouting parties left." Veleth sighed and continued rifling through the ash, his mind on whatever had taken over his home.

After a few moments, I found something in the Ash Spawn's leftovers. It was a small sheet of paper, about four inches across and three inches tall. It was blank, so I ran my hand along the edges of the paper and found a crease at the bottom. I flipped it open, then turned it right side up and gave the message on it a cursory glance. "Well, this is interesting," I muttered quietly. It was a series of demands from one General Falx Carius who claimed to be in service of the Empire. Fortunately for me, Falx Carius could not count himself among my generals. My first thought was that this was some sort of trick that Thera was trying to use to hurt my chances with the Dunmer, but that didn't make any sense. She was cunning, but that kind of thing wasn't her style. I looked up at Veleth and motioned with the note. "A liar is sending the Ash Spawn to kill you from Fort Frostmoth."

Veleth walked over, wiping his hands against his armor, and took the note. He read through it and cursed in his ancestor's language. "Falx Carius? That's impossible," the Dunmer whispered in disbelief. He shook his head and folded the note, regarding Dorthe and me with a calculating eye. He scoffed. "This man served the ancestor of your Empire at the end of the Third Era. He's been dead since the eruption of the Red Mountain, and this fort has been empty since that same time."

"So what do you wish for us to do? We are at the service of our Emperor, and he is at yours," I said, letting my head dip slightly. Dorthe barely held in a noise that would have erupted as a scoff, so I turned to her and smiled disapprovingly. "Bless you."

"Too much ash," Dorthe muttered apologetically.

Veleth glared at her for a moment before shrugging. "Well, ideally I would lead my men to Fort Frostmoth to find this man claiming to be Falx Carius and kill him. I don't know if the First Councilor told you, Sera, but something is on this island. It's controlling our people, more every night," Veleth explained, his voice for the first time dipping into fear. He shook his head and gestured powerlessly. "We dream the same thing every evening. Miraak."

Dorthe and I looked between one another. "That is who our Emperor sent us here to find. If he is attacking your people, you should know he is our enemy as well as yours," I told the Dunmer warrior. He fiddled uncomfortably with the ax strapped across his back and frowned – he thought we would betray his trust and ignore the Ash Spawn threat should we learn where to find Miraak. I shook my head to calm his nerves. "We will deal with Falx first, I swear it upon the blood of Talos Himself, but tell us what you know. The faster we defeat this Miraak, the faster your men will be able to defend your home against anything else that may attack."

Veleth considered me and my words for a while, mulling over what I had said over in his head. Eventually, he allowed his head to cock slightly to the side. "And you swear you'll deal with these Ash Spawn first?" he inquired.

"Yes," Dorthe interjected before I could answer. I looked over my shoulder at her for a moment. She should not have spoken for me, though I knew precisely why she had. After a half moment, I turned back and nodded at the Dunmer captain nonetheless.

Veleth sighed in relief, the stress rolling from his shoulders visibly. "Thank you," he breathed desperately before he looked up at me and smiled. "Thank you, Sera. So... There's a temple, towards the center of the island. I believe it belongs to Miraak or it is at least is older than the Empire. Fort Frostmoth is not far south east of here, perhaps a half day's journey. Head directly north from there for a day's journey and you'll find the temple."

I nodded in thanks and bowed to the Dunmer. "You have my thanks, Sera." I turned to Dorthe and placed my hand on the hilt of my blade. "We should hurry, before these creatures attack Raven Rock again." I gave a nod of goodbye to the captain, who thanked me again, and walked off with Dorthe at my side.

The two of us walked in silence for some time, with only the sound of the ashen wind to accompany our thoughts. Her thoughts were practically louder than the wind, however, and I nearly found myself laughing at them. "Do you really think that I would betray Veleth's trust so easily?" I asked her when we were far enough from the Dunmer that we would not be heard.

She took a measured moment before responding. "You've done so before," she responded simply. I glanced over at her; she was staring straight ahead so she could avoid my eyes. "Since... that day, you've become less and less honorable, Your Grace. Talos does not hold the same weight for you that he once did.."

She was right, of course. I believed in the gods existence still, of course, but I did not believe in the gods themselves. My life had been a series of terrible events and death. They did not deserve my respect if such was their reward for my diligence. "I am here to curry favor with Morrowind just as much as to defeat Miraak. If the First Councilor is dead before I am able to defeat Miraak, there will have been no point in disguising myself here." I stopped moving and turned to the young woman. "Besides, my oath here is your oath, and the gods still matter to you. I would never make you an Oathbreaker, Dorthe." I smiled dryly. "Hadvar would kill me if I tarnished your honor like that."

Dorthe scowled and punched my shoulder with enough force to cause me to stumble to the side, a real smile on my face again. "Treason!" I mocked, earning only another blow from the young woman. I couldn't help but burst our laughing as she continued her assault. "I yield, I yield!"

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"I'm sorry, you want me to _what?"_ I growled at the Telvanni wizard as we stood within his oversized fungus of a home. There were far too much magickal tools assembled throughout the living space and lab for my liking, and I felt like the Mer was just as likely to dissect and study the effects of Vampirism on Aedric magick as he was to help me find Miraak. "You're asking suicide."

"I am asking to see something no one else in the world could claim to see," Neloth countered dryly, his voice a slight whine. He held the black book up in his hands and narrowed his eyes on me, preparing a threat. "Unless, of course, you would rather not find the being that you came here to kill, the one who means to kill you."

I thought briefly about beheading him and forcing his nervous and – in his own words – 'worthless' apprentice to give me what I desired. If he wasn't lying, though, Neloth hadn't really taught his apprentice anything of value and I'd be worse off without the wizard himself. "You want a being blessed by the Aedra, turned into a Vampire by the will and blood of Molag Bal himself, and the one who will usurp Akatosh himself to possibly peer into Hermaeus Mora's realm of Oblivion." After a moment of enduring the wizard's condescending sneer, I added, "For fun. Truly, you outshine the rumors of the legendary cruelty that abounds in House Telvanni."

"Flattery won't get you out of this," Neloth noted, shoving the book into my arms.

"Remind me to offer you a position in my Empire if I survive," I muttered before placing the book flat on its back cover in my right hand. I gave in and took a deep breath. "Just open it to any page and begin reading?"

"Yes. And, if you die, please explain in detail the pain that you endure. This may be a once in an Era opportunity for study." With that, he grabbed a notebook and magickal writing utensil, and stared intently at me.

"If I die, I'll kill you and drag you with me," I responded. I looped m fingers beneath the front cover of the Black Book of Hermaeus Mora. "If I survive, maybe I'll let you examine the Ogmha Infinium." Then I opened the book and took great pleasure in the stunned, hungry, and terrified look of the Telvanni wizard before black tentacles wrapped themselves around my throat and everything went black.

When I awoke, things were not much brighter. Even I, a creature of the night, had difficulty perceiving the shapes and reality around me. The sky was a toxic green that gave off a dull and sickly light, somehow making things darker than they would be without the illumination. I looked down and saw that the ground was more disgusting. A black, web like material stretched out beneath my feet and separated me from an ocean of ink-like Daedra that swirled and reached out for me, for my blood. "Well, I should have known," I growled sardonically, taking in the disgusting sights of the Plane of Oblivion.

A familiar shriek sounded from above, and I scoffed. It seemed that even in Oblivion I was unable to escape the constant hounding of dragons. I looked up in time to see a huge shadow roll across the sky, leathery wings flapping with enough force to send men flying or propel a giant dragon through the skies. "And who do we have here, Sahrotaar? A mortal braving one of the Apocryphan books?" a deep and manly voice asked as the Dragon slowly circled over head to land on the other edge of the platform. The Dragon was unique, vastly different from any of the others I had killed in my time. It was completely smooth, with blue, scale-less skin and a hideously toothy under bite. Most intriguing, however, was that it had someone on its back – the person speaking. "Well, it looks as if at least one of my summons was received. A baby Dragonborn..."

"You must be Miraak," I responded snidely, examining the figure. He wore a Dragon Priest mask, one of a glimmering golden metal. It had tentacles snaking out from the mouth and formed dragon horns at the top of the helm directly above the black, slit eye holes. His armor had some sort of hard, organic material jutting out from the shoulders, and the rest was hidden beneath brown yet ornate robes. He was human, I could smell it in every movement of his blood. "Watch your tongue, Human, for you speak to the slayer of Alduin."

Miraak's head cocked to the side. "Indeed?" he inquired, baritone mocking. "No, I think that would be the other one. She do not reek of the Dragon-King, does she, Sahrotaar?"

The dragon hissed. "No, _Thuri,"_ the dragon responded, eyes full of hatred as it responded and was forced to bow its head to Miraak. "She is no true _Dovahkiin."_

"Still, she has slain a great many dragons, I see," Miraak continued, his gaze returning to me. He laughed and shook his head. "And yet... Ah, I see you have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield. _Mul... Qah Div!_" Light like the Souls of Dragons flew into the air at the sound of his Voice, wrapping around his form and slowly solidifying. Soon, he was covered by armor in the shape of a Dragon, roaring faces glowing around his chest and hands, his eyes glowing with the fire of a true born Dragon's. I took a half step back as he raised his hands, the jaws of the dragons opening with them, and two black portals appeared before him.

Two creatures appeared from them, both eldritch horrors with spindly, corpse like arms beneath their octopus visages. The mouth was a toothy maw at the center of its chest. Shoddy robes draped from the floating creature's body and appeared more like its flesh than its clothing. Daedra. I drew my blades and readied for battle. "I came here to kill the one who wanted to destroy me. Face me, coward!"

"This realm is beyond you, child," Miraak explained, turning away and walking towards the serpentine dragon. "You have no power here, and it is only a matter time until Nirn belongs to me as well. I control the minds of Solstheim, and soon my temple will be complete. I will return to take what is mine. Return where you came, and await the arrival of your god with the rest of Tamriel."

The Daedra hissed and floated slowly towards me, swaying dangerously and raising their arms. The air began to glow with Magicka, the fabric of the Plane shimmering under the will of the monsters. Energy erupted from their chests, waves and waves of destruction crashing into my body and forcing me to my knees. The air dimmed even further, and Miraak laughed over the beating of his dragon's wings. "If you find me again, it will be your Doom."

And then I fell unconscious and everything went truly black, though the screams of the creatures continued to ring in my ears.

The screaming continued even when I woke up, the open pages of the Black Book hugged tight to my chest and blood streaming from where my head had slammed into the floor. Neloth was standing above me, still scribbling like a madman in his notebook. "Well, what do you know? You didn't die," he muttered, his voice matter-of-fact in tone. He scribbled something else in his notes. "That was unexpected."

I glowered at the wizard for a moment before forcing myself to my feet. "Miraak was there."

Neloth looked up from his notebook again, this time slamming it shut with one hand. "Miraak? The dead man Miraak? Well, I suppose if he has been trapped in Apocrypha for all these thousands of years there is a chance that he has survived due to the dilation of time that exists in planes of Oblivion," the wizard posited to himself. "Is there anything else that he said?"

"Where is his temple?" I asked angrily. The wizard just raised an eyebrow in response. I moved threateningly towards him, drawing one of my blades and holding it at his throat. "I have come a very long way to kill someone. I'd rather it be the one I came to kill, but I am not the kind to have qualms about it being anyone else bathing by blade."

Neloth smirked and nodded. "Fine. But I will call on you for a favor." He pushed the blade away from his throat and laughed. "Eventually."

"We already -"

"I do not remember making a deal," Neloth said, a grin spreading across his face. He shrugged. "I'll even throw in use of my knowledge. Whatever questions you pose will likely bring new knowledge to me. A fair trade, yes?"

I had forgotten how much I hate Dunmer.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I knocked down the door into the innermost sanctum of Fort Frostmoth with a single utterance of my Thu'um, sending the wood and its hinges flying away. I stood in the dust swirled door frame, magickal ice swirling around my left hand and Dragonbane casting sparks in every direction. Say what you will about me, but I do make excellent entrances. Dorthe however, not so much. Her training as a Blade had ingrained in her an almost preternatural desire to enter rooms unnoticed and strike only when necessary. Prudent, but altogether boring.

The Ash Spawn were on me before the smoke cleared, their club-like hands and flaming skin approaching to destroy me. I paid them little mind, though. They were beneath me, on the whole. A simple wave of my hand caused streams of Frost to freeze two solid for Dorthe to shatter even as I bisected the third with Dragonbane. It shrieked, an unearthly rasp, and the magickal bonds holding it together were severed. I froze the Ash pooling on the ground to prevent any possibility of being suddenly stabbed in the back by one of the creatures.

In the center of the room was standing a man dressed in old, broken armor of the Old Empire. The Imperial Maroon was faded from ash and age, more black than red by this point. The gold had become almost silver and the steel plate on his arms and feet was rusted. His chest had a huge, gaping hole which revealed a meteor like stone encased where his heart should have been. "Ouch," Dorthe muttered upon seeing the gaping wound.

"Are you General Falx Carius?" I asked, frozen palm outstretched towards the man.

"I am General of the Empire Falx Carius. Why are you attacking, Imperial?" the long dead Man snapped, drawing from his back one of the largest hammers I had ever seen until that point. He held it low and out to the side. One look at his eyes and it was clear that he really wanted to use the cudgel. "Such is a crime against the Great Empire of Tiber Septim and his Imperial Majesty Uriel Septim IV."

"Uriel Septim died some two hundred years ago," I explained bluntly. The man didn't seem to believe me. "And his Empire died five years ago. The war with the High Elves crippled it beyond repair." He continued to ignore me. "In the name of Emperor Lucius Ashcroft Atmoran, first of his name, Protector of Tamriel, Blood of the Dragon, Alduinbane, Ysmir, Rightful Emperor of Men, Mer, and Beastfolk, Knight of Auri-El, and the Last Dragonborn... I order you to surrender." I hoped that the whole official title thing would ensure that this long dead man, who was obviously still consumed by duty, would listen to my orders. I even added in the brand new ones that the Graybeards had conferred upon me when they had learned what Thera's plans were. The old men begged my forgiveness a dozen times over before the ceremony.

I saw Dorthe begin to position herself behind Falx in case he didn't stand down. "The Empire needs warriors to fight in the new war with them. Your command over these... creatures -"

"They are not monsters!" Falx snapped, eyes glowing red. That was... worrisome. "These are my men. They have stood guard with me for centuries against intruders and liars like you! I will destroy any traitors who would ally with the Dark Elves stealing the Empire's land! I will kill all of y-" He was cut off when a katana shattered the stone in the cavity on his chest. The light within the meteor hissed and bubbled for a moment as the magick within it died out. A moment later, he fell to the ground, dead.

"He was going to attack you," Dorthe explained in her defense before sheathing her blade.

"I know." I glanced down at the body and frowned sadly; this was a man who was so loyal that he had stood guard alone for over twenty decades. If he had not been driven insane by his isolation... I sheathed Dragonbane and walked over to the corpse, pocketing the fragments of the stone that had kept him alive. Even lost as he was, Carius deserved the words for the man he had once been. I tried to say them, but I just could not find the will to do it.

Dorthe did it for me when it became abundantly clear that I could not: "Talos guide you, General Falx Carius." I stood up and glanced over at Dorthe, deciding I would eventually send someone for the man's bones. That was the least I could do for him. "We have a long ways to go, Your Grace. We best start walking now." I allowed myself a moment alone with my thoughts, then walked with her towards the back entrance.

When we were both outside of the Fort, I turned and grabbed her shoulder. "We part ways for now, Dorthe," I said.

"Excuse me?" she asked, getting ready to draw her blade. "No. I'm already likely dangerously close to being tried for treason by Delphine -"

"Charges I will inevitably drop," I countered, though it did little to dissuade her from arguing the point.

"- and you expect me to just let you go gallivanting off by yourself?" Dorthe laughed dryly and grabbed the collar of my coat, pulling my face down to her level. "I will snap your knees and drag you back to Cyrodiil before that happens."

"You sound more and more like Delphine every day. That's not quite the compliment you would expect," I said, brushing her hands off and chuckling. "And if you could keep me from doing things, we wouldn't be here on this ash covered wasteland, now would we?" She just glowered at me instead of responding, the look in her eyes capable of shattering the Eye of Magnus itself if given enough time.

I sighed and rested my left hand on my saber's hilt. "Veleth deserves to know that Falx is dead," I told her, gazing off towards Raven Rock somberly. "He'll be able to put more men on the walls... and I hate to admit it, but I would rather not leave him worrying about an attack from out here when there is likely other threats they should deal with. First Councilors make as many enemies as friends, and the Morag Tong have only grown stronger since the Dark Brotherhood was absorbed into the Dominion."

"My duty is to stay with you," Dorthe retorted.

"Your duty is to protect the interests of the Empire. Ensuring that we have a way off this island and back home is the best way to do that," I countered authoritatively. "Morvayn is important, to the Empire... and to me. Do this for me."

"Come with me." Dorthe frowned and gestured toward the settlement. She said, "I won't let you out of my sight, Emperor. Not for that long."

I sighed and considered my options. Then the solution presented itself. I raised my left hand and summoned a stream of magicka to my open palm. The air pulsed and appeared black as the night sky for a moment, stopping when it revealed a figure I had come to really appreciate over the past years. The creature was a horse, one made up of deep purple flames and bones. "Good boy, Arvak," I said, happily scratching the creature's chin as it cantered over to me and nuzzled against my shoulder. I raised his gaze to mine and smiled. "Can you take Dorthe to Raven Rock for me? She needs the fastest horse in any plane." The horse neighed excitedly and trotted towards the young woman. "Is this good enough, Dorthe? Arvak can get you to Veleth quickly, and maybe even get you to the Temple before me if you're lucky. And, if you're not, I'll be able to get into a fight without you cutting it off early."

"I'm stuck with you. How lucky could I be?" Dorthe asked dryly. She grabbed the fiery reins of the horse nonetheless, and pushed herself up to his back. "If you try any of those stupid plans going through your head right now, I'll cut your legs off." She stared at me, hoping I would get the message, then pulled on the ethereal horse's reins and they galloped off.

I let her go for a few minutes, waiting until I was sure she wouldn't hear. "Time for a stupid plan. _Durnehviir,"_ I shouted, though the noise was barely louder than a whisper. The air trembled for a moment and the mostly dead dragon appeared beside me in a whirlwind of purple magick.

"_Drem yol lok_. Greetings, Lucius, it has been too long," the dragon said, bowing his head deferentially. He sniffed the air and a hiss erupted from his throat. "I thank you for bringing me _wah vus_ – to Nirn – but this place is... _dur naal vulom_. Greatly cursed."

"I think I'm starting to get that," I muttered, glancing at the ground.

"Miraak killed many of my brethren here. It is no place for _Dov."_

I looked up at the dragon. "Wait. What? You know Miraak?"

"As much as any _Dov._ He is like you,_ kiir do Bormahu_. A child of Akatosh," Durnehviir explained, shifting his weight anxiously from wing to wing, terrified even though his Soul could no longer be taken. "Though more akin to the Vampire than to you. Why?"

"He sent people to kill me," I explained. I looked over and bit my cheek for a moment and mulled over what he had said. "Now that I know what this is about, I feel worse for asking you this favor."

"No. Ask, Thu'ri," the dragon commanded with a smile. "Please, my friend."

"I need to go to his Temple, a few miles north of here," I explained. I bowed my head slightly to my friend. "Please, take me there."

Durnehviir nodded and lowered his head to the ground. "I would gladly take to the skies with you, _Thu'ri._ It is not often that I get a chance to _bo voth zeymah_. Let us soar – quickly, before your shadow returns from where you sent her."

"You know too much for your own good," I told the dragon as I pushed myself up to sit atop his neck, gripping the spines that seemed to solidify as I neared them.

The dragon laughed, the sudden movement nearly throwing me off. "That is as good an explanation of my fall as any, _Dovahkiin."_ Then his wings began to beat, and we took to Kynareth's domain. Then the dragon did something that made me regret summoning him around a few bards. "Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red who went -"

"Oh, by the Nine!"


	59. The Temple of Miraak:Bent Wills

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I clamped my hands over my ears while my tone deaf traveling companion continued to scream _'Ragnar the Red'_ loud enough for the sycophants in the Dominion's capital to hear. Hopefully it only seemed that loud, otherwise I was sure that Dorthe would be waiting to kill me once I touched down at Miraak's Temple. I don't even think me being Emperor would be able to keep her from murdering me if that was the case. My only hope was that she didn't find me for so long that her concern outweighed her rage. Knowing she was a Nord, I would probably have to find my way back to the Imperial City by myself.

As Durnehviir entered his third time singing the bardic hymn, I knew I could not take it any more. "Durnehviir, friend! How about we stop singing!?" I asked, cutting the dragon's song off. His eye rolled back to glare at me, and I grinned nervously. Interrupting a dragon was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, even for a Dragonborn. "I just mean... what else can you tell me about Miraak? How dangerous is he?"

The dragon shivered at the mention of the First Dragonborn's name. _"Krosis,_ the stories I have heard about his final battle are... unnerving." He fell silent, his words replaced by his powerful wingbeats. I waited for him to elaborate and was gifted for my patience. Durnehviir's gaze returned to the path before us and he said, "The Ideal Masters told many tales about their desire for a Dragonborn's soul, and none more than Miraak's. He discovered ancient Shouts believed only to be possessed by Alduin, and many hundreds of _Dov_ flocked to his side."

"What could be so strong as to scare dragons like that?" I inquired. If Thera found whatever this Shout was, she could destroy all of Tamriel with the raw power of the Shout.

"Influence, _Thu'ri_," Durnehviir explained. He angled his wing tips and we turned hard to the right and began to descend. It was not long before the Temple itself came into view, green magicks tinting the surface of the stony spires. "This Shout was supposedly capable of not simply bending the will of any dragon to its user's desires, but completely altering the _kos kosil_ of a dragon – its inner being – to be completely in line with that of the _mu_ _Thu'um._"

"Mind control?" I asked, fighting off the urge to flinch as the dragon spiraled closer and closer to the source of dark magicka at the center of the temple.

"No. They are not being controlled, _Thu'ri. _They desire nothing except what Miraak desired. He changes them," Durnehviir explained as he landed. His head dipped and he allowed me to slide off of his back. I did so and walked up to his head, placing my hand atop his crown. "His Will becomes their Will."

I stared at the dragon's scared eyes for a moment before patting the center of his head comfortingly. "I thank you for everything, Durnehviir. I will not summon you while I am still on Solstheim, my friend, not if it can be avoided. You have my solemn vow, _zu'u hi vat,_" I said, bowing my head to the monumental dragon.

He smiled, something that had scared away many an adventurer, and his throat rumbled with laughter. "Do not risk yourself for my sake, _Qahnaarin._ Who would I sing with if you do not survive?" Durnehviir inquired good naturedly.

"Never mind. I won't summon you even if I'm in trouble," I shot back, causing the dragon to laugh again. I smiled and shook my head. "Go, use what time you have left here to explore Nirn."

Durnehviir nodded and raised his wings above his body. "I await our next _tinvaak, Dovahkiin_." Then he brought his wings down and began to slowly ascend into the sky, shrieking joyfully as he climbed. I covered my face with my glove, keeping dust and stone from my eyes and waved him off with my other hand. He may have been a good friend, but I was more than happy to see – or rather hear – his song disappear into the southwest.

I shook my head and turned to walk up the stairs to the Temple, taking my blade from my hip and readying for a fight. If the lackeys that Miraak had sent were any indication, there was an entire cult that he had at his beck and call. I had little doubt that I would soon be fighting my way through a substantial number of the cult's membership.

I reached the apex of the temple after only a few minutes, and was surprised by what I saw. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of people were all chanting the same creepy mantra, their minds gone. The drones were busy repairing the temple's architecture, so busy that they could not even see me wave my sword in front of their faces. "Creepy," I muttered as I shoved a drone away from where it was working and it drifted right back to its place, continuing its job. I looked toward the center of the Temple, where a carved spire spread the green energy through the stone. It had to be the source of this... My eyes widened. The Shout! This must be what happens when a mortal was subjected to the Shout's abilities. I walked over to the stone, intent on studying the energy so I could figure out a way to break the control or even use it against Miraak. After all, if Durnehviir was scared of him, it stood to reason that I should be as well. I reached out towards the stone with my free hand.

"No!" My hand flew back and I looked towards the source of the voice. It was a young Nord woman, perhaps in her twenty fifth year. She had blonde hair that dangled to the odd, carved steel armor on her shoulders. Two axes hung from her hips, one a similar material and design to her armor and the other a blue material I had never seen before. I cocked my head to my side and raised my sword towards the woman. "No! No, I do not mean you harm! Please, lower your weapon Outsider."

"Who are you?" I asked, keeping my blade pointed at the woman's throat. I glared coldly at her, unwilling to compromise my safety for this odd stranger.

"I am Frea of the Skaal. I mean you no harm, I am simply here to find a way to break this control." I lowered my weapon when she said that and considered her for a moment, then I sheathed Dragonbane. "Thank you. Who are you?"

I frowned. The Skaal were a very secretive culture that was only found on the outskirts of Solstheim. Most scholars had thought them extinct until the Dark Elves took over Raven Rock and started to trade with them again. They were also a very trustworthy people, unconcerned with the physical world and its riches. "I am Lucius Ashcroft." I bowed my head slightly in greetings before speaking again, "I'm here for the same thing, except I am also supposed to kill Miraak. He tried to kill the Emperor of Tamriel."

"I see," Frea responded. She gestured behind her. "I killed two of his followers just as the world shook; the entrance is over there."

I scoffed. "Yes, that was... that was a friend of mine. He throws his weight around a bit much," I explained. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, hoping she didn't question further on how large my friend could be.

Thankfully, she did not seem to think that this was her business. "We should ally, for now. It will be easier to breach the depths of the Temple with the two of us working together," she pointed out earnestly.

I nodded slowly. "Fine. I assume I could not stop you anyways," I assented.

"I doubt it as well," Frea responded with a smile. She drew her axes and motioned for me to follow her into the Temple's catacombs. "Come, every moment we spend out here is a moment longer my people and these are enslaved."

I shook my head in exasperation. I left Dorthe behind just to be cursed with a traveling companion who acted like me. "By the Nine," I grumbled.

_**Jul**_

**Dorthe**

Dorthe trotted into Raven Rock on the back of Arvak, appreciating the strange stares she was receiving from those who were around her. She supposed that even the staunchest of the Daedra worshiping Dunmer rarely saw anything similar to a horse made of flames and ethereal purple bones. It wasn't long before Captain Veleth and First Councilor Morvayn were alerted to the strange going ons of their city and the two figures came out to greet the woman riding atop a ghost. "Quaestor Dorthe, correct? Where is your commander?" Morvayn inquired, crossing his arms and staring at the woman. He looked down at the horse who had begun to eat some of the poisonous grasses native to the island, resisting the urge to ask about what it was.

"He went ahead to the Temple to find Miraak and end him before he could cause any more damage. I was sent here to tell you that the individual commanding this Ash Spawn threat has been destroyed. They will not be troubling you again," the woman explained. She pulled the reins of her ghost horse up and Arvak cantered around for a moment.

"Should you not be with him? This individual sounds... dangerous," Veleth pointed out worriedly. Dorthe held in a scoff – even when he was not trying, the Emperor had a knack for making friends out of potential allies.

"He was on foot and said he would wait if he arrived before me. Not that it matters: with Arvak here, I'll get there before him," she said while patting the horse's neck. What she said next made the horse ghost nicker happily. "He's the fastest horse in Tamriel."

"As soon as that is complete, I have one other request of you two. I'm not willing to risk my men on what I truly believe is nonsense, but the owner of the mine truly believes that there is an untapped ebony vein. Should one be discovered, I will gladly offer its contents to your Empire first and foremost," Morvayn said. Dorthe's eyes lit up – that was the second reason the Emperor had even decided to come here. "As a token of thanks for your dealings with the Ash Spawn attacks."

"Thank -" Dorthe looked up when she heard a loud, off tone voice begin to scream the song '_Ragnar the Red_' at the top of its lungs. The young Blade began to shiver with pure rage and her mind turned to murder. She looked over at Morvayn and Veleth again. "I am afraid I have to go. My commander has decided he would rather die by my hand than by that of time." She turned Arvak and dug her heels into the bony horse's hide, causing him to rear up on his hind legs for a moment before galloping off and out of Raven Rock.

"Humans are such an odd species," Veleth told Morvayn.

"Yes, indeed they are, Sera," the Councilor responded, a smirk gracing his features as he smirked at the woman's back. "Though I believe those two are not quite indicative of their kind."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I brought Dragonbane around to deflect the incoming blade of a massive Draugr, the blow causing my arms to shudder from its sheer force. I held strong, however, and slid the massive sword off the flat of my blade and shot a spike of ice straight through its chest even as it stumbled backwards. With most Draugr, this would have spelled the end. With this beast, though, it was only a minor annoyance. The creature hissed something incredibly rude about my mother in the language of dragons and swung its massive blade at my head again. I ducked beneath this attack and landed a well placed kick on its chest, driving the spike deeper in. The Draugr stumbled backwards, its head soon separated from its shoulders when the twin axes of my newfound partner in battle slashed through the air. The Draugr's body hit the ground with a dull thud and I quietly sheathed Dragonbane before the blue light left its eyes. "Good work," I complimented the woman as I walked away from her and towards a chain hanging on the nearby wall. They were all the same, these damn places. "You would think a traitor to the Dragon Cult would make use of different doorways." I pulled the chain and a door in the stone slid open to reveal a thin, snaking passageway.

"How did you know-?" Frea began.

"Like I said, all these tombs are exactly the same," I grunted as I pulled a dagger from my hip. It would be better for such tight quarters. I took point. "Stay behind me."

"I do not need your protection," Frea protested, but I was already through the door.

"You would just be getting in my way," I responded bluntly, ignoring her and holding my blade backhand in front of me. Luckily, nothing came towards us. We walked down the entire length of the winding hallway, hideous serpentine effigies sprouting from the walls, ceiling, and floor. I did not like the way they looked at me, sightless eyes of stone filled with hungry hatred. Even worse, these were the typical images used by the cults of Hermaeus Mora, which meant –

"Dammit," I growled as we came upon the final room. The only thing in the room was a pedestal upon which rest a black book bound in what looked like Dunmer skin. What was Mora's obsession with having his books bound in mortal skin?

"What is the problem?" Frea asked, coming up behind me and trying to get a glimpse over my shoulder.

"It's a book. That's the only thing here," I explained, sheathing my dagger and walking up to the book. "Hermaeus Mora."

"Herma Mora?" Frea asked. She sounded worried, terrified even. I knew much of the Skaal, but this I did not: why. My confusion must have been evident on my face, because she quickly explained. "Herma Mora is... one of the Adversary's most dangerous aspects. He seeks to steal our knowledge and souls to try and destroy the All-Maker's creations. If he is the cause of all of this, we have underestimated Miraak's danger."

"I agree," I grunted even while I reached for the book. "It's time to estimate it perfectly." Then I picked it up – releasing the pressure plate and opening a door in the wall at the back of the room – and opened it.

The world immediately changed, and I was greeted by what many scholars described as Apocrypha, the Oblivion Realm of Hermaeus Mora himself. "Just once I would like to be wrong," I grunted while staring up at the green sky.

"But where would the fun in that be?" I turned to the source of the voice. It was a Dragon Priest with a bronze, tentacled mask.

"The cultists have a good approximation of that mask," I told him while drawing Dragonbane. He was standing in front of a smooth, blue dragon and between two Seekers – Daedra who served Hermaeus Mora.

"That is the idea," the ancient warrior replied. "Dragonborn."

"Dragonborn," I said with a nod of my head.

We were silent for a while, just staring at one another, analyzing everything we could about our new enemy. Finally: "You're the second Dragonborn to visit me." I laughed once. Of course she was here. Both Empires without their leaders in the middle of the greatest war in a thousand years. "Yes, she seemed to anticipate your presence as well. I have not heard everything about why."

"Who says the gods do not have a sense of humor?" I inquired. Miraak laughed in agreement. "Surrender. I won't ask twice."

His laughter cut off and his posture changed. "To the point. A Dragonborn's Soul has intense power, you know this," he explained, his deep voice filled with fiery rage. "I am stuck here, in this... gods forsaken pit of..." He coughed and calmed himself. "I must escape if I am to lay claim to my birthright."

"The entire world, you mean," I finished. What was wrong with us all that we each elected to conquer the world, regardless of what we desired? I remembered Paarthurnax, then – the will to dominate was in our blood. "Then come and get me. It won't be easy, of course. I devoured the soul of the World Eater Alduin. I hold the power of Akatosh on my back. I am Harbinger and Archmage and Emperor of All Tamriel, Men and Mer and Beast alike. I am beyond you."

He scoffed and made an audible smirk. "No. You are a mortal. I am a Dragon. _Mul Qah Diiv!_" I recognized the first of those words – Dragon Armor, the shout I had learned in his own temple. "I am beyond _you_, Last of our Kind. Return to your Plane until you are worthwhile. _Nahl Dal Vus_." I blinked once and I was with Frea again.

So I was not even worthy of his time yet? I was nothing to him? "What happened? You seemed to... fade from the world!" Frea shouted, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me. The book in my hands slammed shut of its own accord, the cover's evil face glaring up at me.

"It is Miraak. The First Dragonborn and Servant of Hermaeus Mora," I confirmed with hollow voice. I pulled open my pack and haphazardly attempted to stuff the book into it – it was much too large, but it would stay. Given that he had just sent me away as if I were nothing more than a spoiled child, I had to admit that he was right: "He is beyond me... for now."

"Of course he is – he is Dragonborn," Frea assuaged. I cast her a look over my shoulder that told her everything she needed to know. "Y-you..." She set her jaw and nodded. "You should speak with my father, Storn Crag-Strider, in our village to the north. He leads our people, knows our histories even back to Miraak. If anyone knows how to even chances with him, it would be my father."

I hesitated. Dorthe would not like it if I decided to run even further from her watchful eye than I already had, and I wanted to warn her that Thera was here. No, no... Thera didn't know Dorthe, and she likely meant to keep a low profile while on Solstheim. We both did. Still, I had to get a message to Dorthe that I was heading further from her. I took my unique Emperor Dragon Bone dagger from my hip and oriented myself in my mind. I placed the tip north on the floor, then froze it with magic until Dorthe could find it. "I have always wanted to meet the Skaal," I finally agreed.


	60. Fate of the Skaal:Dov Mal

**AN:**

**Finally! This is a big chapter and finally realizes fully the hint I gave back during my hiatus, as you can tell from the chapter's title!**

**To UndeadMonkey8: Yes, you are correct. Lucius did not absorb any of Alduin's power, which he's still quite happy about. He was just lying to try and scare Miraak, which obviously did not work. It did leave a mark on him, as is canon when Miraak and Durnehviir remark they can 'feel' it on him.**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I walked in step with Frea down the path towards the Skaal village. Our journey since leaving the Temple of Miraak had been relatively quiet, aside from Durnehviir flying overhead belting out the 'Age of Aggression.' Trying to explain that one to her was... difficult. Can't really blame her, though, given that dragons had been attacking her tiny village for years. "And... he's always singing like that?"

I sighed. "Oh yes. It's... It's far too much," I groaned until the undead dragon finally soared far enough away we could no longer hear him. I gripped the crossguard of Dragonbane and it clinked under the movement. "He's gotten a bit better, at least." I looked down slowly and caught sight of a glowing henge shooting a similar green energy into the air as Miraak's temple itself.

"That is where my people are held hostage by Miraak," Frea explained as soon as she traced where I was looking. "One of the All Maker Stones." She looked over at me when I didn't respond and explained. "I have heard your lands have similar stones blessed by the All Maker's power."

"Standing Stones. Yes," I replied quietly. I kept my eyes locked on the obelisk for another minute or two. Something was there, something incredibly powerful and oddly familiar. It must have been Miraak's energy, that of Daedra and Dragonborn spilling over into the Plane, that I felt. It was the only explanation I could come up with at that moment. I tore my gaze from the stones and looked over to where another massive source of energy was emanating. "What kind of Magick are you using to protect your village?"

"Secrets of the Ancient Skaal," Frea stated as if that explained everything. She walked past me and led me further towards her home village, which was swirling with a magicka shield that would have made Magnus god of Magicka himself proud. Frea walked through the clear energy on the path up the hill without any effort whatsoever. _I_, however, slammed right into a clear wall. Frea just turned around and glared questioningly at me. "Are you coming?"

I gestured at the wall. "I'm just playing chicken with this invisible person," I said dryly. "What do you think I'm doing? This wall must keep Dragonborn out – _any_ Dragonborn."

Frea chuckled. "Well, I suppose this strengthens the veracity of your story, doesn't it?" she asked. She looked up the hill and then back down at me. "Then perhaps..." she muttered under her breath. She smiled and nodded at me before continuing with, "Father will be able to fix this, just give me a few minutes." She turned around and jogged up the pathway and disappeared over the crest. I drew Dragonbane and turned around to battle in case anything – like an angry Blade – showed up on the path behind me.

"Who are you?" a young, squeaky voice asked.

I turned towards the invisible wall again and my gaze met the golden brown eyes of a boy dressed in the clothing of the Skaal. He had dark black hair that split down the middle of his forehead in a cowlick that outlined his incredibly face. He was very tall for how young the rest of his features made him look, so I was unsure if he was old enough to be as tall as he was or young enough to look like he did. "Why do you ask?" I inquired of the boy. I buried the tip of my blade in the ground and knelt down to stare the boy in the eye.

"Because I smelled you coming," the boy responded simply. He looked left then right before matching my gaze again. "You can't pass the barrier either?"

That raised my eyebrows. A Dragonborn child? "No. I take it that means it stops you as well?" The boy nodded. I frowned and thought about the young man for a while, studying him intently as I did. I turned my attention silently to the flow of Magicka around him and was unsurprised by the sheer energy coagulating around his young form. "I'll let you in on a secret then... you are meant for great things. What's your name, Skaal boy?"

"I'm not Skaal," he responded simply. "And Mother told me not to trust strangers."

"Then she's a smart woman, but Frea brought me here." That seemed to calm the boy down to an extent and he bit his lip nervously. I laughed at his caution, wishing I had behaved the same way when I had been a child. "Tell you what, I'll introduce myself first." I smiled at the boy and bowed my head. "I am Lucius Atmoran. I'm here to defeat Miraak."

"I hope you kill him," the boy growled. I raised an eyebrow in question and he explained a moment later. "Miraak took my mother from the village."

"My apologies," I muttered. "I know how it feels to lose someone important because of evil."

The boy cocked his head to the side and studied me. Finally: "My name is Octavian."

I smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Octavian." I noticed a slight shimmer as the shield changed, and I stood up. I sheathed Dragonbane and walked through the wall. "I'll save your mother. I promise."

Octavian looked up at me as if unsure that I could, but eventually nodded and walked up beside me to the town. "Ah, I was just about to come and get you!" Frea said as we met at the crest of the hill. She looked down at Octavian. "Were you bothering our guest, Octavian?"

"Young man kept me company," I said. I reached out on a whim and ruffled his hair. He did not seem to appreciate that. I looked back up at Frea and nodded towards the village. "Let's go speak to your father."

Frea nodded and led me through the Skaal village. It was not a small village, and it seemed even larger given the lack of population within its borders. Aside from Frea and Octavian, there were two humans milling about, a couple children, and a single dog whining for its master at the center of the village. Near the north end was a trio of individuals chanting to release a powerful Magickal ward. One was an old man who seemed to be the leader of the group – Frea's father, I guessed. Upon seeing me, he looked to the others. "Continue without me," he muttered, standing up and walking towards Frea, Octavian, and I. He raised one hand in front of him. "Hail, stranger. I am Storn Crag-Strider, Shaman of this village."

"Hail," I muttered with a bow. "Lucius Atmoran, Dragonborn."

"Aye, that much I know," the Shaman responded. He looked down at Octavian. "Go play with the other children." Octavian nodded and ran off waving to me as he did. I laughed and waved back at him. "You opened the Book?"

I snapped back to the issues at hand. "Yes," I told the Shaman. "And more, I believe I know how Miraak is controlling the people of this island."

"Indeed? How, then? It may hold the key to cleansing our people of his oppression," Storn said with a relieved smile reaching his eyes.

"An ancient Shout of Dragons, one capable of... altering the souls of beings. These stones of which he has taken control likely are being used as conduits to spread the range and effectiveness of his _Thu'um_." I sighed and shook my head. "However, as of now, I know not of a way to counteract that control. Not when it can even alter the Soul of a Dragon to do his bidding."

Storn nodded slowly, taking in this information. Frea was the first to reach a solution, however. "Father, do not the legends say that a similar power rests on the Walls?"

"Word Walls?" I inquired. I smacked my forehead when I realized my stupidity. "Of course! If two opposing but at least nearly equivalent wills were to use the Shout at the same time, the Magickal snap back would cause the Aedric Magicka in the souls of the affected to return to its normal state. Of course!" I looked up at Storn. "The Word Wall!? Where is it?"

"In the mountain there is a small Cairn of undead." He pointed towards the distance. "If you head in that direction you will -"

"Oh, no! No, you are _not_ running off again!"

I palled and turned slowly around. "You promised you wouldn't do anything stupid!" Dorthe shouted as Arvak cantered up the hill.

"Who are you, intruder?" Frea snapped. She drew her axes and leveled them at the Blade.

"Do I look like I am talking to you?" Dorthe snapped. She jumped off of Arvak and stomped up to me, waving her fist in my face before the ghost horse even managed to disappear. "You said you wouldn't go to that damn temple by yourself!"

"Now, to be fair, Dorthe, I went with Durnehviir and then Frea. I wasn't alone at all," I responded with a nervous smile. "I'm perfectly fine." That didn't stop her from slapping me across the face. I held up my hand when Frea moved to attack the young woman. "Dorthe, you're my bodyguard. I know your duty is to protect me. But you are my family as well. I was not going to risk your life if I could defeat this enemy on my own."

"And?" she asked angrily. "Well, I'm waiting for your answer Emp – Sir."

"They know," I said quietly. Dorthe's eyes widened with rage and I shrugged. "The Skaal care little for our war, and they are good people regardless."

Dorthe was quiet for some time. Finally: "You endangered the entire Empire."

"I know," I muttered quietly.

"For... For a thrill. Right? That's it," she growled.

"Probably," I agreed sadly. I furrowed my brow and clenched my fists at my side. "But also because I am being called. You don't understand, Dorthe, because you have never felt it nor have you ever seen its effects. Lydia, she knew. Even Delphine has seen it. The gods are lighting my path on this war, guiding me to something. And they owe me something light for once." I pushed the woman out of my path and walked past her. "Thank you Storn. I'll try to clear this up as soon as I can."

I stopped a moment later and glared at my bodyguard. "Are you coming?"

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

Neloth had indeed led me to Miraak's temple, just as he had promised. Unfortunately, it had already been ransacked by the time I got there. Pretty recently, too, if the corpses and cleanly cut Draugr were any indication. And yet it seemed that none of the defenders had been successful in spilling the blood of their attackers. None of the blood was of the correct splatter pattern on the walls, and there was no trail of dripping blood to follow between the small arenas of battle. No, whoever did this was incredibly skilled. I looked down at the bloody footprints – the two who did this were incredibly skilled.

This temple was a huge treasure trove, at least before these mysterious attackers had arrived. It even contained one of the most rare and powerful treasures of all – a Word capable of increasing my strength as well as that of my _Thu'um_. That would be an incredibly useful skill to have in my future battles. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the _only_ thing that remained. Even after walking through long, narrow hallways and between disturbing Daedric imagery, there was nothing. Nothing but an empty pedestal and the smell of _him_. "Ayleid. It seems Miraak was not lying when he said he was waiting for the both of us." Whatever had been here was long gone, which meant he too had survived his encounter with the ancient Dragonborn.

I sighed in a combination of relief and anger. It would be nice if he would just keel over and die, but I would still rather enjoy gutting him myself. Of course, given Miraak's strength and how easily he had slapped – likely – both of us away, and going off of our prior... misadventures, it was likely we would find ourselves allied for a short while yet again. I walked past the pedestal and out the back door of the temple.

The sun hit my face as soon as I exited, and I covered my face until my hypersensitive eyes could adjust. The downsides to being a Vampire. Until I had the Bow, of course.

It was at this moment that I saw something moving in the distance. I slowly lowered my hand and squinted at the two short lines hiking across the landscape. While they slowly came into focus, I pulled up a hood over my head to shield my eyes from the sun's glaring light. I smiled at the perfection of this when I finally recognized one of the figures, not by who he was. No, it was because he was so stupid that he had an Aedric weapon looped around his shoulder. The Bow. "Lucius! Speak of the fool and he shall appear." I wrapped my cloak around to obscure my armor and began to silently run after the figures, ignoring everything as I went. Even a smell that was... familiar when I passed another one of those odd, glowing standing stones, this one surrounded by a large group of humans chanting the same inane poem as I had when I was under Miraak's control.

I looked past Lucius and his current traveling companion to try and see where they were going. I noticed a few things of note in the face of the mountain as my sight locked in, but they were so far away that its features were blurry and obscured. A dragon roar rang out from that direction, however, so I could guess what waited for us there.

We walked for many hours towards the mountain, and I soon saw that my guess had been correct. Yet another Word Wall, this one emanating an incredibly powerful aura nearly identical to the one that smothered the island.

Lucius and his pet sprang into action immediately upon seeing the Draugr that had awoken. They attacked with the trust and silent communication that came with time and experience, every move they made completely complemented by their partner's. She was a Blade, then. The katana had become much more popular as a weapon since the rise of Lucius' Empire, with the blades being forged in multiple materials for the officers of his army. Sadly, the art of making these weapons seemed to reside with the Blades themselves and as such could not be copied by my smiths. For now.

I crept towards the shadows and silently made my way to a high spot of the cairn. I stared down at the carnage as it approached the Wall and frowned. Lucius had grown far more than I had anticipated in the past years. He unleashed a beam of Lightning from his left hand the size of a Bosmer warrior that turned an entire regiment of Draugr to ash. My fears were slightly alleviated, however, when he stumbled after cutting off the flow of energy. Despite his strength, it appeared he could not engage in certain feats for too long. His recovery was still impossibly fast, however. It was barely a moment later that he bisected a Deathlord with a single swipe of his blade. Killing him would require outsmarting him, not facing him down in a battle of power.

I looked up upon hearing a shriek and saw another of those smooth, serpentine dragons shooting towards the two humans on the ground. They looked up and Lucius raised a huge Ward to deflect the inevitable incoming flames. The dragon passed my perch, and I made my move. I jumped out and dug my blade into the base of the dragon's neck. There was a loud _crunch_ as the blade sliced through bone and into the creature's spine. It shrieked in pain and its wings flapped uselessly.. The sudden movement sent it tumbling to the left and it crashed in front of the Wall. "Unfortunately, Scaley, he's mine to devour," I said, pulling my blade from its back and stumbling to its skull. The dragon growled weakly at me and tried to move its body, but it seemed its last spasm was all it had before becoming truly paralyzed. I smiled darkly down at the creature and stabbed my blade forward through its eye before turning to absorb the knowledge from the Wall.

I laughed when the Word entered my mind and slowly began to clap. This would be nice, quite nice indeed! "I have to say, I like this one, Lucius," I said as the footsteps behind me came to a stop, replaced by the singing of metal. I turned around slowly and smiled at the weapons pointed at me. "Oh, come now, if had wanted to kill you know, I would have just thrown a blade through your eye while you were concentrated on the Draugr. We both know there's something much, much more pressing than each other that we have to deal with at the moment."

He glared at me and kept his katana leveled at me. A moment later, he growled and sheathed the blade before ordering his underling to do the same. "Miraak."

I smiled. "Miraak."


	61. Fate of the Skaal:The Wind Stone

**AN: Hey!**

**To Undeadmonkey8: All your questions will be answered... pretty much immediately. These last two sections are going to move faster than the prior two. Luc did indeed retrieve the Word for Bend Will off screen since that was the reason he headed there. As for Octavian, his connection with Luc'll be explained in this chapter.**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I had placed myself in between Dorthe and Thera, for one simple reason – Dorthe was, simply put, even more likely to murder her than I was. And that was no easy level of hatred to match, much less surpass. Thera, for once, was not being terribly talkative. The silence was both welcome and incredibly uneasy, given all murderous desire that was in the air. I could have cut it with a damn sword if I felt like it. As it was, I was too busy holding onto the string of Auri El's Bow looped around my shoulders; she was giving it some hungry looks that were making me even more uncomfortable. We had decided on a truce thus far, but with Thera I knew to expect a betrayal before our business had been fully concluded rather than when we no longer had to worry about our common enemy. "Ugh, these stones again," Thera groaned as we approached the one that rested on the outskirts of the Skaal village.

"Miraak is using them to channel his control over all of Solstheim," I explained gruffly. I examined the light shooting out towards the sky before shivering: the familiar feeling was even more prevalent this close to the standing stone and the disturbing chant sounding from the brainwashed Skaal working on it. I sighed and began to move towards the stone.

"I wouldn't touch it, Lucius," Thera said, her voice filled with hidden laughter. "I wouldn't mind you as a mindless thrall, but I hope that I'm the one doing it."

I stopped and turned around, narrowing my eyes on the elf woman's smirk. The only way she could know that was if she had been brought under Miraak's control at one point. "I'm well aware that the magic Miraak is using would even be able to control me – a Dragonborn – if I touched it," I told her. It was my turn to smirk as I turned away from her and continued walking towards the stone; the only way she could know that was if she had touched the stone herself. "Only a childish fool would touch one of those stones without thinking."

I could practically hear her brain working over time to come up with a retort, only to come up short. "Now, I think it would be best to test my... My..."

"Your what?" Thera growled, though I barely heard her, distracted as I was. I cleared my throat and shook my head. "Your what?"

I cleared my throat and took a step back. "It seems the energy is more powerful than I thought," I lied. Thera accepted it as truth, likely because she wants to assume she's better than me at everything from swordsmanship to resisting the mental domination of an ancient warrior who is aided by one of the most devious and powerful of the great Daedric Princes.

I turned away and let my eyes drift for a moment to the figure working on the stone structure magnifying Miraak's control. Serana. She was working tirelessly on the structure, her golden eyes vacant as she focused on the task for which she had been enslaved. It made her look so different, the complete lack of fire in her eyes. It made her sharp and attractive features seemed... slack with the disappearance of her will. Besides that, she was wearing the customary clothing of the Skaal people. The only reason I had even recognized her was because of that pressing feeling of familiarity I had mistakenly ascribed to Miraak's energy. It was not magick, for wizards had failed to find any evidence of such connections for millennia. No, it was... Well, at the risk of sounding like a cliché, it was love, the entwining of our fates. It was pointless to hide that I had found her, knowing that Thera would inevitably learn. During our battle, during the following betrayals. It didn't matter which. It would happen, the only difference in the actual act being a few minutes at most. But they were my minutes, precious few as they were.

"Well, are you going to get going?" Thera demanded angrily. "Or would you prefer to just stand there like a foolish human. Woops! Tautology!"

I rolled my eyes, but acknowledged she was correct. I took a deep breath and held it in my soul, bathing it in my power for a moment. Then: "_GOL!_"

Yellow energy flew from me in a single massive wave, the energy filling the world. Upon colliding with the stone, there was a loud, echoing peal that rang through the air. The standing stone shuddered in time with the clear noise, the movement and sound giving off the feeling of something being wiped away. The ringing noise continued for a few minutes, every continuing second driving another of the people working on the stone from Miraak's grasp. It wasn't long until a pair of golden eyes blinked rapidly, growing more lucid every moment. They locked on me and a look of recognition, then joy filled them... quickly followed by fear when they found the Vampire standing a ways behind me. "Sh," I mouthed, shaking my head imperceptibly. Serana let a small smile tug the corners of her mouth up for a moment.

And then the peal died out, replaced by a thundering roll. I drew Dragonbane and looked around, wondering where this noise could be coming from. I received my answer a moment later when the rock structure connected to the standing stone shattered without provocation and the yellow glow disappeared. The water surrounding the stone bubbled and hissed, turning black as the deepest night – no, more like ink. The color seemed to drain a moment later from the water, congealing in one spot. A large claw tore its way out of the ground, a moment later followed by another. I narrowed my eyes on the large, fish like creature. "Lurker," I growled. I swept my sword to the side and angled it directly at the Daedra, both Thera and Dorthe following suit a moment later.

The Daedra roared angrily and lumbered towards us, the ones who had disturbed its master's power. The people who had just awoken from their stupor shrieked in fear, aside from the Vampire who stood stock still with her eyes locked on mine. She lifted her right hand to rest on the stone for a moment before her eyes widened in fear, a different kind than that of the others, and she bolted towards the Skaal village. "One of us should make sure that the Skaal get to their village safely," I said as the creature continued to lumber around.

"Running from a fight?" Thera asked. She scoffed at me."If you're that afraid, go."

Well, that worked out better than I had hoped. "I hope you get maimed," I told the elf while sheathing my blade. "Dorthe, come on." I turned and sprinted after the Skaal villagers. Dorthe looked around worriedly for a moment, then sighed and followed me.

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I watched my opposite run from the battle and towards the village of weak pacifists. I smirked and angled my twin blades at the lumbering Daedra once again. It groaned and looked slowly between me and the retreating Lucius, then turned to try and follow him. "E-excuse me!" I snapped at the Daedra. I let my blades fall and watched it take another few seconds to follow Lucius. "I'm being insulted by a fish monster..." I sighed and walked up behind the Daedra as quietly as I could, then slashed through the tendons along the side of its knee. The Daedra roared in surprise and toppled forward, throwing out its other leg to try and retain its balance. It failed, as it was already heading down a hill, and it tumbled down until sliding to a stop at the bottom.

"I absolutely despise being ignored by lesser creatures," I snarled as I walked down to stand above the Daedra. It roared angrily and lashed out with its arm, a swirl of black tentacles following the movement. I spun beneath the attack and jammed one of my blades into the Daedra's ribs. I let it go and continued spinning until I was on the side of the creature that I had already crippled with my weapons. It hissed and tried to turn towards me, until I stabbed my remaining weapon through the back of its throat. The monster hissed angrily for a moment and locked its eyes on me – Daedra never die, so I made an immortal enemy. Joy. The creature groaned and slowly faded away into formless ink. It flowed away like a black river, and my other blade crashed into the ground. I lifted the blade and resheathed it. "Ah, it feels good to take part in a battle so one sided."

I turned and looked towards where the Skaal villagers had run off with their tails between their legs. Silly humans. Now that I was free of any pressing matters, I thought about how odd it was that Lucius had not engaged in battle as well. He hadn't behaved normally. Well, normally for him. He was always so obsessed with following through on things, and doing them himself. By Bal, he went out in the guise of a commoner to fight alongside his own soldiers because he believed he needed to be at the forefront of our war to win even a single battle. He would not leave even a single Daedra to me alone...

There was only one thing in all the world that would convince him to ignore such a battle. "So, this is where she ran." I grinned to myself. It was like a gift from the gods, Aedra, Daedra, or otherwise! The Bow and a Daughter of Coldharbour together in one place, within my reach after only a single well placed betrayal? I could not wait for that. Unfortunately he knew that as well. He probably knew that I would figure it out myself... Well, might as well find out what else he could be hiding from me.

I began to walk up the hill towards the village slowly, humming happily to myself the tune of Ragnar the Red. The immortal tale of a boastful male warrior decapitated by a woman. It was going to be almost prophetic soon enough. I smiled to myself at that, the fact that one of the human's oldest songs would mirror the death of their Emperor. Well, I mean, after all this business with Miraak was concluded.

I reached the crest of the hill a moment later and sighed in disgust. The humans were all milling about like fools, saying hello to their 'loved ones' or some such nonsense. One was even fawning over the child with whom he was reunited for the first time in some boring and unspecified amount of time. And even worse, the entire village smelled like fish. No, I would enjoy never, _ever_ coming back to this damn island with either only ash or ice.

And that was when I saw the two.

They were hugging, acting all... _human_. If I were not in need of his assistance regarding our mutual adversary at the moment, I would want nothing more than to decapitate them there and then. I began to turn away, but then I noticed another, shorter creature standing between them. I raised an eyebrow suddenly. Well, I could honestly say that I had not been expecting to see a creature such as that.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I sprinted away from Dorthe despite her intense protestations about how far away I was getting from her. I could not quite hear what she was saying over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears; she was here. _She_ was here! I had been separated from her for far too long, and now that she was within arms reach it was as if every passing moment was poison and she was the antidote for all these years of strife. "Emperor! Emperor, slow down!" I did not slow down.

I reached the crest of the hill and looked around anxiously, terrified that I had somehow, inconceivably, lost her in the few minutes since I had lain eyes upon her. Still, the fear pounded through every nerve in my entire body as I swung my head around until, finally, I caught sight of her. She was standing at the center of the village, looking over the heads of the reunited Skaal for someone. Her eyes passed right over me, and I wondered for a moment just who she could be looking for. There was mindless panic that we had been separated for too long, that she had...

Dorthe slid to a stop beside me and laughed. "Oh, Luc... Delphine and the others will be happy when we get back," she stated with a grin. I looked at the ground and bit my lip, afraid of what I might say if I opened my mouth. Dorthe caught on rather quickly, and placed her hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I made her leave, Dorthe," I explained.

"Aye. And you've pined after her every day since," the Blade pointed out mockingly. I scoffed and looked over at her for a short moment, catching sight of her eye roll. "You've defeated entire flocks of Dragons on your own and erected an empire through force of will. You're scared to talk to one Vampire now?"

"Obviously, it sounds stupid when you say it like that," I admitted. I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair. "How do I look?"

"Less angry and depressed than I've seen you in five years."

I sighed. "I suppose that'll do," I muttered. I took another deep breath and walked with purpose over to the woman I had sent away to protect her from our enemies.

I put my hand on her shoulder as I approached from behind, and she turned to me with eyes full of worry. She smiled for a moment. "Luc, it's..." I pulled her into a hug.

"I'm so happy to see you, Serana," I interjected. I placed my face on her head and breathed in the scent of her hair for the first time in half a decade. She pushed away from me after a moment and smiled, though it didn't seem to reach her eyes. I frowned and clutched her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"I haven't seen -"

"Mother!" I turned when I noticed that word was coming towards us. A young man was sprinting towards us, arms stretched out to his sides. Serana pushed off from me and ran up to Octavian, picking him up and hugging him to her body. She crouched and the tall boy's feet touched the ground and they continued their hug. He looked over Serana's shoulder at my incredibly stunned face. "You saved her. Thank you."

"Oc-Octavian is your boy?" I asked. I walked up behind her as she stood up and placed her hand on the boy's shoulder. I looked between them. "I... congratulations."

Serana scoffed. "You've gotten dumber, then?" she asked dryly, eyes twinkling gold as they met mine.

I shook my head but kept eye contact anyways. "How old are you?" I asked the boy.

"Five," he responded with a friendly smile.

"You're tall and mature for your age, Octavian," I said, a smile growing across my face as I knelt down to be face to face with the boy so I could examine his features. I looked up at Serana and smiled; he looked just like me. "So..." I stood up. I looked back down at Octavian. "How do I introduce myself here?"

"This is... Heh, this is your father, Ock," she said, running her hand through the boy's hair and grabbing my hand with her other one and squeezing it gently. "Luc, this is your son. Octavian Isran Ashcroft."

Dorthe walked up at that moment to ruin the moment. I sighed when she stood beside me, gesturing behind her with her head. I looked over and saw a woman glaring at the three of us, an evil smile on her face. "And that is the woman who wants to kill all of us," I muttered under my breath. Louder, so the boy would hear: "And that... that is a very big and very inevitable problem."


	62. Tinvaak:A Gift from the Gods

**AN:**

**Sorry this story updates so slow. I update when I have the inspiration. It comes slowly for this story.**

**To goddtragonking: Thanks. I will try to make it stay good.**

**To Undeadmonkey8: Yeah, I know. I thought the same about the kid reveal, but Serana never struck me as the kind of character who would want to beat around the bush. Also, he's not going to be a ****_huge_**** character in this arc. He is five, so his usefulness begins and ends at zero. The last arc picks up about fifteen years after this one ends, so he'll be a lot more important then. Until then, I thought it best to avoid the trap that ****_The Strain(TV)_**** fell into – having a kid around all the time when they'd only get in the way of the action. He's here, and he's important in how Lucius thinks of him. As for Thera and Dragonbane, she left it in Paarthurnax's skull when she killed him, so Luc picked it up from there.**

**To Operator Blake: I will try to update when I can. It's a lot slower than it should be, I know, but I'll eventually hit a groove and do like five chapters in two weeks. It just varies in how I feel at any given moment.**

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

This was just... Truly, it must have been a gift from the gods and a sign of my impending victory. He had sent her, the only other Daughter of Coldharbour I had ever found, even with my immense network of intelligence. Summoned Daedra, ancient vampires, and even enthralled Moth Priests. Not a one had found any evidence of another Daughter of Coldharbour's existence on this Plane, and it appeared that Lucius had hidden her specifically from the view of any magic through the use of his own wards and enchantments. Truly, I had suspected she died in the past few years and thus I would need to find a woman capable of surviving Molag Bal once I finally had the Bow. It would be so much better to use _her_, however. And the boy..? Well, I had no doubt that the blood of a child of a Dragonborn and a Daughter of Coldharbour had immense and unknown powers. I was virtually certain that I would find some use for the boy given enough time to imagine.

Oh, how alive I felt! For the first time in five years, Lucius and I were truly opposed! I could feel the fire in my veins, the power of our hatred for one another! I forgot just how... amazing it all was. Our battles were those of Dragons, pure magic and will bending reality. A shiver ran down my spine as our gazes met and those wills clashed fully once again, both now with specific, opposed goals at their core. Gods, if I wasn't sure that decapitating him would give me unbelievable joy I might have considered letting him live so our battles would continue. But I'm not a fool, so murder it is.

I had believed for some time that Lucius could not surprise me. He had always been easy to predict, with his antiquated ideas of 'honor' and humanity. That was why I was so incredibly surprised at his decision to draw his blade and sprint at me. I drew my blades just in time to deflect his attack and drift to the side. I grinned and slashed at his head, only for his blade to come up and take the blow. "I never expected _you_ to break our truce," I pointed out when he shoved our blade lock apart. He ignored the statement and began a calculated flurry of blows at my head, every swipe of the sword narrowly missing my face.

The villagers had no clue how to respond to the battle going on before them. Even Lucius' vampire bride or his bodyguard pet could do little more than watch. Simply put, everyone around us was outclassed by miles; interfering in the battle of Dragons led more often to death than peace. I caught Lucius' katana beneath one of my blades and pinned it to the ground, raising the other one for an attack. If he wanted a battle, I would be more than happy to oblige, Miraak be damned!

My blow was stopped when a pulse of Magick ran from my opponent's open palm to surround his entire body. His hand simply grabbed the blade of my sword and twisted it to the side. "How -" I was interrupted by Lucius' forehead suddenly slamming into my nose. I stumbled backwards, letting go of the weapon pinning his sword to the ground. I regained my composure just in the nick of time, catching the next blow of his sword on my remaining blade. He growled as the blades met, then slammed his foot into my gut. I gasped in pain and fell backwards.

Luc was a Dragon, and not one to ignore an advantage. He breathed in, the air around him swirling. "_FUS RO DAH!_" The green energy slammed into my chest and a massive explosion of air threw me backwards. The rest of the force continued outward, and even though I was suddenly thrown thirty feet away I could hear the wooden huts of these savages creak and nearly be torn apart by the blow.

I crashed into the ground and slammed my blade into the dirt. I slid to a stop halfway down the hill leading from the village, and I found myself struggling to even breathe. It turns out I was wrong twice; Lucius could more than surprise me. I didn't think he could fight like this. I... I was no longer sure I could defeat him. This posed a problem, though perhaps not an insurmountable one. I pushed myself to my feet and shook my head. "We have an agreement, Lucius!" I screamed as he neared again. I growled and rolled out of his next attack's path, coming up with one knee on the ground to block his overhand slash. I pushed back up against his blow and hissed from the force on my arms. I could not hold out for much longer. "Lucius, what about Miraak!?"

"When have you ever lived out our truces?" he snarled in response. He raised his blade again and slammed it back down. I felt my arms buckle for a moment and his saber nearly cleaved through my skull.

"When have I ever betrayed you _before_ our goals were done?" I retorted.

"Every time."

Fair. "No, I planned for it." I angled my sword and rolled past him, lashing out with my leg as I came to my feet and landing a kick to the back of his knee. He stumbled forward to regain his composure, giving me enough time to get back into a battle stance. I sighed, "As did you."

He turned and held his sword in both hands before him. He knew I was right. "Regardless, this is a threat to both of us. He got rid of you as easily as he did me?" I inquired. Lucius' silence and inaction spoke volumes. "Yes. Then we need each other, at least until we have weakened him enough to destroy. At that moment this battle can be renewed."

Lucius considered stopping his assault, and I believed he would soon sheathe his weapon and we could go back to planning this moment. Instead, I felt his heel collide with my forehead when he jumped and spun midair to deliver a back kick to my face. I tumbled down the hill again, the entire world becoming a blur of gray ground and... even grayer skies. I came to a stop at the bottom, barely catching myself in time to control the tumble and finish on my feet. A spear of ice appeared behind me in the place where my head had been a moment later.

He was far more serious about this than he had been in quite some time. It seemed years away from his woman had done him no small amount of good. Causally, this was something that was very bad for me. I dashed back to avoid the trio of incoming ice spears and pointed up at Lucius. "Then how about a trade, Lucius?"

"You have _nothing_ that I want!" he responded, his voice a hoarse roar. He raised his hand, the ice spear growing between his fingers.

"Don't I?" I inquired with a smirk. I placed my hands on my hips and narrowed my glowing eyes on Lucius, our gazes locking. "What about Isran?"

The ice spear went wide, crashing into the ground beside my feet. "I see that I have your attention now."

"You're lying," he growled, his voice a hoarse whisper.

I laughed dryly. "Well, yes. I suppose that is a very real possibility," I admitted with a shrug. "I've always been very good at it, after all. But it doesn't really matter to you if I am, now does it?"

His leather gloves squeaked as they tightened around his sword's handle. "You see," I continued, "if you kill me now, there's still a possibility I was telling the truth. That Isran is alive. Even if I was lying, your guilt that you may have let a man you called 'friend' rot in my dungeons for the rest of his life... Well, it would devour you, wouldn't it, Ayleid?"

"Tell me," he snarled, appearing inches from me with a single Word, the sound of his Voice still echoing around us in the wind. The edge of his blade was lightly touching my throat, ready to fly through my neck at the slightest provocation. "Now."

"When Miraak is dead, I will give Isran back to you. I will return to you one of those thousands you have failed." I smiled, and even I could tell that it was a cruel grin. Well, what is life without some cruelty? "Or you can kill me here and never see him again. Either or, really."

I could hear his grip tightening on his sword as he considered beheading me anyways. And, yet, his human weakness won out. The blade rang into its Dragonbone sheathe and he crossed his arms over his chest. He shook his head and began to walk away. "Let's hurry back. We should split the cleansing of the remaining stones."

He stopped a few seconds later and turned around. Before I could even react, his fingers were wrapped around my throat and rage seemed to turn to flames that flew from his eyes. "But once all of this is over," he began, his fingers tightening as he spoke, "I will murder you in a way just as painful as you deserve." He shoved me back, letting go of my throat.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I stood beside my returned wife and newfound son, more than a little unsure of what to do with myself around him. It saddened me to admit, but it was going to be some time before I could truly bond with him. At this point, the pale boy was going to remain a stranger for quite some time. I felt terrible for this slight to my own son. I had grown up without my own family, and I had no desire to deny him his. I had even less desire to continue denying me this happiness. I had only crafted this Empire for her and, without knowing it, him.

I took a deep breath. Dorthe was going to be quite mad with what I was going to order her to do, though she would have to get over it. "So you have no information regarding any other Word Walls on this island?" I asked of the Skaal.

"None for the Shout that you desire, Dragonborn," he stated, glancing between the Thalmor and me. I forced myself not to glance at her, knowing that may reveal fully the existence of the Dragon Aspect shout. The Shout was not the ultimate weapon for either of us, so this was more a petty desire to have something she would not.

"It's fine. We'll figure something out," I assured the Skaal leader.

"What else is new?" Thera remarked coolly.

I shot her an annoyed glare, then looked back at Storn. "It should be fine regardless. What we have now can cleanse the Stones, and we'll figure the rest out as it comes," I assured the man again. I looked at the sky. "Speaking of, I believe our best course of action would be to continue cleansing them, as we agreed. Where are the other stones?"

"The Elf village has one, with another not far north of it in the mountains. A third is near the Mushroom Wizard's home another is north west of hear at the joining of two rivers."

"But what of the Tree Stone in Miraak's Temple?" Frea asked her father. "Should that one not be cleansed as well?"

"We likely wouldn't be able to. That's Miraak's most direct conduit to Nirn," I cut in. "We can stop his control at the other Stones because they are merely... relaying his control. That Stone likely holds the full force of not only his will but also Hermaeus Mora's. I doubt we could stand against that."

"Unfortunately, he is correct. To defeat him with only the other stones as our allies is the test the All-Maker has laid out for us," Storn explained to his daughter.

"Gods, why is it never easy?" Dorthe grumbled.

"This? Well, at least Miraak can be killed by more than just one weapon," Serana pointed out. "Everything should turn out fine."

"Then I will take the two closest to here. I have business of my own to attend to," Thera said once our conversation completely died down. She turned and left without another word.

I watched her leave for a while before turning back to Serana. "How long have you been here?" I asked after a moment.

"Five years, about. I was in Hammerfell for a few months until I realized Octavian was on the way," the woman responded. She placed her hand on the boy's head and he huffed that she would treat him like the small child he was. "I got here just before he was born."

"She hunts the bandits that get too close to our village," Frea explained, and the image of a blood covered Serana flashed through my mind. Vampires.

It made me a little nervous. "Is Octavian..?" I waved my hands and pointed at my mouth nervously.

"A Vampire? Oh yeah, you can tell from how he doesn't age, can't you?" Serana remarked dryly.

"Of course he isn't," I admitted. Still, I should probably look into whatever his Vampire heritage would do to him. I took a deep breath and looked over at Storn. "Change the ward back. No Dragonborn, any, can return once I have left."

"What? But then we -" Dorthe began.

"I can't have her getting in here," I cut her off. I sighed and shook my head. "Besides, you'll be staying here with Octavian and Serana. Or, if they need it, helping the Skaal."

"What?" Dorthe snapped.

"I'm not staying -"

"This isn't a debate," I growled. I looked down at Octavian. "He needs you, Serana. And Dorthe, I need you to stay here so I don't ignore everything and do it myself." I knelt down and smiled at the boy – at my son. Nine Divines, it felt amazing to say that. A gift from the gods, something I had no clue I would desire so. I knew I should be wary of their habit of taking those gifts away rather quickly, but I just couldn't. I had a son! "Octavian, I assume you have many questions."

The boy looked bashfully at the ground, no longer quite as open as he had been before. "Do not be nervous, I am your father, not a monster."

"You have a monster already, don't you?" Serana asked, bending down to pick him up. Octavian laughed exuberantly as she pretended to bite him and then draped him over her shoulder. She calmed down a moment later and held him at eye level with me when I stood up.

"I cannot wait to get to know you." I said. I reached out and grabbed his hand. "You have to help my friend here –" I motioned at Dorthe with my head "– okay? Be good. And take care of your mother. She has a bad habit of getting into trouble." I smirked. "I think she learned it from me. And with my luck, you got it from both of us."

"Same luck as ever," Serana agreed. She nuzzled her head into our son's cheek before gesturing for me to take him. "Just for a moment."

I looked at the ground and clenched my fists, then nodded and held my hands out to my son. "Can I just... hug you? Once?"

The boy basically leapt from his mother's grasp, his arms wrapping around my neck. I stumbled backwards for a moment; the boy was the son of the two tallest living humans after all. When I stopped, I wrapped my arms around the boy a moment later and smiled in contentment. I had found... where I belonged. Now all I had to do was make sure that I didn't lose it.

I put the boy down and smiled at him. "If you need me," I said, looking between Dorthe and Serana, "I'm heading to Raven Rock first. I should probably check in with the First Councilor while I am there."

"Stay safe. I'd rather Delphine not murder me," Dorthe commanded.

"I will," I assured her before waving goodbye and walking away.

"So... You probably don't remember me -" Dorthe began.

"Please. Dorthe, I couldn't forget you," Serana assured. "You are quite a bit taller, but you have the same fire in your eyes that Hadvar did."

I smiled to myself. I couldn't wait for everyone else to see her again. I couldn't send her away again. I already knew that. Not when Octavian existed. The two of them belonged with me in the Imperial City, the Emperor and Crown Prince of Tamriel. I gripped the bow around my shoulders and my smile turned to a sour grimace.

I had to find a way to destroy it.


	63. Cleansing the Stones:Best Served Cold

**AN: Hey! Sorry it's been a while, I was just trying to figure out the best way to insert my favorite non-main missions from Dragonborn into the story, then I had Thanksgiving, then Finals. I'm not sure if the next chapter will be out very fast, but it will probably be out fast****_er_**** than this one.**

**Merry Christmas! And, Happy Hanukkah day 1 as well.**

**Anyways, response:**

**To TrentBttl: Thanks! Sorry it took so long. I'm glad that my Serana-Lucius relationship is good enough that you anticipate whenever they're together. Sadly, Serana isn't going to be by his side all the time in this section of the story, since she has a son to worry about too. Despite that, she isn't going to pass up on this opportunity. When Luc needs her, she'll show up to drag his stupid ass out of the flames.**

**Please, if you ever have any questions, drop them in as a review. I'll gladly answer them in the next update.**

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

"Oh, joy, you're back," the Telvanni wizard mumbled as I flew up the magical elevator to the top of his mushroom home. He rolled his red eyes and crossed his arms. "I thought our deal had been fulfilled on my end, _Empress_." Neloth looked over at his apprentice and motioned angrily. The highly trained apprentice growled angrily but still moved, picking up a tray and pouring tea for his master and myself. This young man _really_ hated Neloth, it appeared. To be fair, the man had the charisma of a half dead horker, but damn it if he wasn't smart and useful. I took the tea from the apprentice and filed his resentment away in case it ever became useful.

I took a slow sip of the tea and fought off the urge to cough it out. It tasted like ash, because of course it did. "It has been, Neloth," I replied with just as much of an annoyed tone to my words as his. "And I know better than to renegotiate a deal with a Telvanni Wizard after an agreement has been reached. Strong as I am, I am sure you would have some sort of trap to leave me injured."

"Oh!" Neloth said, his mood immediately brightening. He tore the tea from my hand and handed it back to his apprentice, picking up a different pair of cups and handing one to me. I raised one intrigued eyebrow and took a sip of this new drink.

That damn Dark Elf had purposely given me shit!

"Well, then I suppose you must have some other reason for being here? Another deal to strike?" Neloth asked. He shooed his apprentice away with a sneer and motioned for me to sit with him at a desk. He sat down across from me and leaned forward on his elbows. "Now, what is it we're looking for?"

"What would the cost be of a Farspeak-Scrying spell?" I inquired after taking another sip of the tea.

"Depends on how far and for how long you want to speak," Neloth explained simply. He leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "Though, I'm assuming that the where is easily guessed, yes?"

"My capital on Alinor."

"That alone would require one favor. Hm... Fine then. Two. There are two tasks that should be able to pay for your desired communication, regardless of its duration," Neloth said after some consideration. He nodded. "Yes, two favors only one of great strength could accomplish. Certainly nothing my idiot apprentice -" another glare "- could hope to succeed in." Neloth considered things for a few moments before nodding at the other Dunmer. "Besides, he needs to remain here to help me with my research." The apprentice palled and hurriedly disappeared, moving much to my amusement like a rat running from a cat.

I turned my attention back to the wizard. "I require the spell now."

"And you expect me to believe you will hold up your end of the bargain if I allow you the spell now?" Neloth inquired mockingly. He shook his head and smirked. "Please, explain how that is the case when your every movement through Nirn has been of betrayal? It is how you crafted your Empire, after all."

Betrayal had indeed been the cornerstone of my rise to power. But a Telvanni wizard understood such things quite well; the political climate in Morrowind over the past two hundred years had been a sea of shifting alliances even I would have trouble navigating. A Telvanni wizard did not gain as much power as this Mer obviously had without betraying many friends to the blade of a one time enemy. "The request is time sensitive. I am unsure that what I need will arrive in time even if I do it now," I explained to the wizard.

"Still, what assurances have I that you will not betray me?"

"Besides the same that I have that you will not betray me?"

The wizard snorted at that. "That does little to explain why you deserve my trust," he pointed out, still laughing as if I had told him a joke.

"Fine then," I snarled. "How about this... I gave you what you desired first in our last agreement. I entered the book without any knowledge of what would occur, and promises of future favor were gifted to you. Now it is your turn to act first, Neloth."

The wizard hissed. "Indeed," he muttered, both angered by my argument and surrendering to its truth. "Fine... I shall prepare it for you. Come." He stood up, smoothing out his robes as he did, then strode away through his laboratory. I watched him move for a moment before I too stood slowly up and followed.

The Dunmer led me through his home, eventually stopping to open the back room where he kept his Staff-Enchanter and had once kept his Black Book hidden. Now, instead of that artifact of Hermaeus Mora, there sat a bowl of water. There was a series of runes placed in the sides of the bowl, and another larger one beneath it that glowed a dull green. Neloth stopped in front of it and pulled alchemical ingredients from nearby. "I'm going to need you to focus on the individual that you are attempting to contact. Their reflection will become your image, in their mind's eye at least. Therefore, I would suggest one who is either incredibly vain or is observant enough to notice." He lifted a bottle of liquefied Wisp Wrappings and poured it into the bowl, quickly followed by some sort of brown, porous material. A simple lightning spell later, and the liquid within the bowl had turned an electric blue. The wizard lifted the bowl and handed it to me.

"You want me to..."

"You asked for a communication spell, you get one. You just have to drink it to establish the connection," he explained as I took the bowl. "Unless you desire to back out of our deal..? I would not recommend such things, of course. Nasty business, betraying a Telvanni."

I narrowed my eyes. Even in doing me a favor, I felt as if the wizard was getting more out of the deal than I. More and more, using his apprentice to kill him sounded like a good idea. I raised the bowl to my lips, eyes never leaving the smirking red orbs of the wizard, and lifted the bowl to drain its contents. I ignored the terrible flavor and slammed the bowl down on the table and watched as Neloth filled it up once again with water. It wasn't long before the chittering began.

Babette and her spiders. Gods, I would never understand her obsession with the creatures. I found them disgusting, but for some reason she enjoyed the company of the creatures. I peered into the water and rolled my eyes. Indeed, it was spiders. Babette was sitting above her underground lake, milking them for venom. "Babette," I hissed, my subconscious urging me to keep my voice low at first. The Vampire girl stopped and turned her head slowly to the right.

When her gaze finally locked on me, the ancient Vampire trapped forever in the body of a child nearly jumped from her skin. The spiders around her chittered even more loudly and scattered from around her. "Dammit, Thera!" Babette shouted when she regained control of herself. She slapped the water and her image in the bowl rippled; from then on, she took it quite well, however. "What in Oblivion could you want that you'd contact me like this?"

"He's here."

Babette's eyes widened slightly. "Well, I shouldn't be surprised, should I?" she muttered her glowing yellow eyes glancing down before returning to me. "Is it a problem?"

Had anyone else asked that, I probably would have planned their death. Her, however, I allowed to speak her mind. I had brought her in as my adviser for the expressed reason of asking such questions. It kept me honest, a necessity for any powerful leader. I was prideful, and rightly so, but it would not do to be blindly arrogant. "It was, though we have struck yet another bargain." At that, the other Vampire laughed at me, much to my ire chagrin.

"I take it you've got a plan, then?" she asked when her laughter finally died down.

My eyes shot for a moment towards Neloth. "Send the Hunter," I said after a few moments.

Babette fell quiet for a while. "Are you... sure?" she asked worriedly. "Even now he can be quite erratic."

"Perhaps a level of unpredictability would be good," I countered. I bit my lip for a second then nodded. "Yes, do it. I am confident that he will do as requested. And, if not, I defeated Isran before. I can do it again."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I walked into Raven Rock alone, having dismounted and said my good byes to my skeletal horse a short distance from the town; it wouldn't do to terrify the locals, after all. The Bow of Auri-El jangled slightly as it moved with my shoulders, and I wondered for not the first time _why _not only I, but the gods themselves believed that bringing it to this island, far from any kind of defense or security, was a good idea. Unlike in my dealings with the Eye of Magnus, no such Aedric presence made itself known to cryptically refuse me any answers. However, I found for once that I could accept that. Perhaps this was when the silver lining to those years of hardship and defeat finally appeared.

I was cut off as I walked through the gate by a woman dressed in a simple dress, a Dunmer who did not look out of place at all. She walked with the same cadence as everyone else around the town and her clothes looked almost indistinguishable. I frowned, however, when I noticed that there were a few almost unnoticeable things off about the woman.

For instance, she was the only person walking towards the First Councilor's building.

Now, that by itself would not be all that odd. Perhaps she had a meeting with him. Or perhaps I was misreading her path. Stranger things had happened than me making a mistake. But, combined with the fact that her otherwise normal clothes, the clothes of a poverty stricken citizen of Raven Rock, were glowing with incredibly powerful enchantments... well, with that the woman suddenly became much more interesting. I narrowed my eyes as she brazenly approached the building and reached to her belt, carefully repositioning the simple elven dagger that hung from her hip. No, I had dealt enough with assassins in the past five years – both courtesy of Thera and earlier from the generals who had refused to follow me – that I could recognize one when they appeared. "Morag Tong," I growled.

I had heard that the ancestral group to the Dark Brotherhood still operated in Morrowind and its colonies, but the official word from the Grand Council was that the group was now illegal – a law that had been pushed by... Hm, by none other than Raven Rock's First Councilor during his time on Morrowind's Grand Council following a coup attempt by members of Hlaalu.

I kept from drawing my blade and followed the woman towards the building, moving loud enough that she would consider me just a member of the crowd. But, despite the fact my skills in remaining silent had grown in the past half decade, they had not grown that much. The woman turned on her heel, and I felt the Magicka gather in her hand before she threw it at me. I jumped to the side, avoiding the needle thin ice spike that had launched towards my head. The attack shattered against the inside of Raven Rock's walls, and I rolled to my feet with Dragonbane drawn and at the ready.

The assassin, to her credit, did not do what so many of the Dark Brotherhood did in this situation. She did not monologue, or ask who I was, or try to stall me. I had killed a great many of their number when they had begun speaking about the great powers of Sithis and how the void would devour my being. The Morag Tong were made of slightly less insane stuff, it appeared, and she ran towards me at full speed.

I was slightly surprised by how quickly she moved, her proximity to me quickly making the longer reach of my sword completely useless. Her dagger was held backhand, rushing up towards my neck. I jerked my head to the side, dodging the blade. She continued to slash the tiny blade at me, always taking care to stay close enough that my sword's blade remained simply an accessory. I continued to dodge, leaving us in a temporary stalemate. We both knew that could not last forever, though. Eventually the few remaining guards would be alerted to the disturbance and would attack the woman from behind, negating whatever advantage she had over me at the moment.

She was the first to come up with a way to get out of that trouble, however. It was annoying, but I had to admit that the assassin was incredibly good fighting against more powerful enemies. I slid past another blow from her knife, still sure that the guards would get there soon to help. I could see them approaching just over the assassin's shoulder, blades drawn as they sprinted towards her ready to...

And then her leg crashed into the side of my knee and I flipped in place. I instinctively raised a shield of Magicka around my skin to keep her dagger from piercing my exposed flesh, but the woman seemed to have expected that. Her foot collided with my midsection, which would not have hurt all that much had both my feet been planted on the ground. However, as I was a few feet above the ground I instead found my self launched a few feet back. I hit the ground and my eyes shut on instinct, blacking out the world for a few moments as I tumbled through the dirt.

I used the momentum to continue up to my feet, opening my eyes and angling my blade at the assassin. Unfortunately she had already disappeared, leaving behind only a pair of dead or – hopefully – unconscious guards. I stayed in my battle stance for a short while, eyes glancing left and right, before finally giving up and standing tall. I sheathed my blade in a fluid movement and set my jaw. Morvayn came rushing out of his home a few moments later, despite his guard captain's many protests. "What in the name of Azura is going on here?!" he snapped, expecting an answer from the guards that were now arriving. They stammered for a moment, as unsure as the Councilor, and he cut them off. "'Legate.' What happened?"

I frowned at how he said Legate, but let it slide. As Hadvar had said so long ago, it was as if people could just feel in their bones that I was the Dragonborn. I almost felt like there was no reason to hide at all. Still, if he was willing to protect my pride, so I could at least accept the gift. "An assassin was approaching your door until I noticed what was happening. She saw me tailing her and attacked before disappearing."

The First Councilor glanced at the ground then back up at me. "Come with me," he demanded, then turned around and walked purposefully towards the door of his home. I stood still for a moment with my arms crossed before shrugging and following him and Guard Captain Veleth through the door. Veleth slammed it shut as soon as I walked through, and the room – in which only the three of us stood – became instantly silent. Morvayn was sitting in his Chair of Judgement, face hidden by a hand that supported his head.

"I hadn't expected this to happen so soon," Morvayn said, finally breaking the tense silence that had taken over the room. He didn't move besides what was required to utter those words. He didn't even make a noise besides that for some time. Still, I knew it would happen eventually, so I simply waited with one eyebrow raised. For as important as my mission regarding Miraak was, perhaps just as pressing was an attempt on the First Councilor's life. Miraak would fall, I felt that much in my bones. The Gods despised the end of the world. The war between the Empire and Dominion required more direct control, however.

Eventually, Morvayn did begin to elaborate. His hand moved from his face and he looked up at me with hollowly disappointed eyes. "I assume that whoever you fought was a member of the Morag Tong."

"She made no such move to confirm, however..." I shrugged. "The Dark Brotherhood has been afraid of acting within Morrowind's Borders since some time before the end of the third era, and not even their alliance with the Dominion has given them enough bravery to break that streak. Besides, almost every assassination of a Dunmer political figure in the past thousand years has been the work of the Morag Tong. Together, there wasn't much else it could be."

The Mer nodded. "Indeed," the man said. He looked over at Veleth. "We should wait a moment." Veleth nodded and left the room, coming back a few minutes later with another Dunmer at his arm. The Second Councilor for the settlement.

"This is my Second Councilor, Adril Arano. He came to me with warnings I ignored... to my shame," the First Councilor said. I turned my attention to Arano and studied him. He was nowhere near as accomplished as Morvayn, but he had a few accomplishments to his name. And, despite his lower station, he had the same sparkle of intelligence in his eyes that Morvayn did. Less shiny perhaps, but it was still there. Less arrogant as well, which is why he probably noticed the events leading up to the assassination attempt.

"Greetings, Sera," Arano said with a small bow. I bowed back and crossed my arms expectantly. Arano did not disappoint. "Councilor Morvayn made many enemies during his time as a Councilor of Morrowind, and many of them would do anything to kill him. Especially members of House Hlaalu."

"They were disgraced during his term, weren't they?" I inquired. I turned to Morvayn. "You executed a powerful member of the House for attempting a coup, I believe."

"Indeed. A member of Clan Ulen," Arano continued when Morvayn did not respond. "I believe they are behind this attack."

I turned towards the Second Councilor. "Why?"

"Their family arrived on this island, in this very settlement, and built up quite the reputation in our settlement as loyal and gracious," the Second Councilor said. "But no Dunmer would ever allow themselves to forget what they believe is such an insult to their honor."

I nodded. "Is there anyone else you suspect?" Arano shook his head.

Sadly, it seemed this was the best option I had. Dunmer were an interesting and incredibly foreign people if they raised in Morrowind, so much so that few could understand their culture unless they had been immersed in it for decades. I certainly could not, even if I did better than most. If Arano said this was his only suspect, it seemed likely he was correct. "I will investigate that for you," I stated simply. "You cannot very well arrest one of your own on such flimsy evidence. However, I can investigate for you, perhaps even defeat the assassins sent here for your head."

Morvayn nodded, then frowned. "You seem brighter than before... Where is your ally?"

I smiled softly. "Dorthe is protecting m– something. Something very dear to the Emperor that we found on this island."

"Hm..." Morvayn grunted before going silent and staring at the ground for a few moments, mulling something over. Finally, he nodded again. "Thank you, then." He stood up and walked towards me, placing a hand on my shoulder. He smiled somberly. "Now, I hate to ask you for two favors in the same day, but once this is over... I cannot spare men on a skeever hunt, but should you discover anything... The mines. Their owner claims to have found another vein. If it is true, we will trade only with your Empire."

My heart skipped a beat. An entire Ebony Mine available for exclusive trade? "It would be no trouble," I finally managed. "Though, I do have one thing I need to attend to while I am here; I did not merely come here to become embroiled in poorly conceived assassinations, after all."

Morvayn snorted derisively, shaking his head. "Well... thank you, Sera. Clan Ulen has taken up residence in the home closest to the Standing Stone outside of our settlement."

I nodded. "Good. That's exactly where I was headed before this mess." Then I turned around and clenched my fists tightly. By the Nine, being dragged into everyone's problems made me feel like I was in Skyrim again.

I knew there was a reason I loved this place.


	64. Cleansing the Stones:Assassins

**AN: Hey, sorry it's been so long. I tend to focus more intently on a story when it's in the last few chapters, and I just wrapped up that story.**

**To Darthfenrir489: So, I'm not going to lie, but it honestly slipped my mind that Dhampirs tend to be the result of a male Vamp and a mortal woman. Thank goodness for retcons, right? So in the story it's supposed to be like... a gift: the idea is that Mara (and Arkay, as Florentius has pointed out) have taken an interest in his relationship with Serana. The gods of Love and Life/Death are giving him something after he's been forced to surrender so much during the course of this story. A divine reward, if you will. Also, thanks for the compliment!**

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I sheathed my blade as the Lurker slowly began to melt away into a puddle of ink. Its angry, piscatorial face snarling at me as it disappeared completely. I raised my palm towards the creature and let loose a stream of Lightning for good measure, causing the last breath of the creature before it passed on to come out as a shriek. It was at that point that I turned around and began to walk towards the Severin manor. It only took a single healing spell to completely undo the minor wounds I had received in my fight with the Lurker. Every minor pain undone, however, summoned one thought to my mind.

Octavian.

It seemed odd that these minor scratches, wounds I had become accustomed to receiving in battle against dangerous enemies such as Daedra, would affect me in such a manner. I had paid them no heed before now, and yet a mere couple of days after meeting my son – my son, oh how saying that still filled me with joy! – each blow that landed upon my skin was worse than any other wound I had ever received. Every one reminded me of my own mortality, and I soon realized that I was afraid of death. I hadn't been afraid of death in years, but now I could only picture the years of my son's life that I had never seen. If I died, the rest of those years would never be mine to see. I could suddenly imagine nothing worse than losing my son, whether through my own death or – Nine forbid – his...

I arrived at the Severin Manor while still deep in thought, my face slamming into the wooden entryway. I flinched and straightened up, a fireball summoned to my hand on instinct. I was able to contain myself before I blew up the door and lowered my hand to my side. I took a deep breath and clenched my fist at my side to get rid of the tension in my fingers. "Damn," I hissed to myself. I took a few deep breaths, trying to clear my mind. Going into a battle without thinking about only the battle was a short path to a quick death; I had to shove all other thoughts from my mind to survive against warriors like the Morag Tong. I reached down to my right hip and quickly pulled a Daedric Dagger from where it rested. I had learned my lesson against the first assassin, and would be prepared for battle within the small hallways of a home against any other Morag Tong warriors that may wait within. For a moment I considered it odd how I could have my weapons constantly drawn, even within people's homes, and no one would believe I was about to attack them. Maybe it was a power of the Dragonborn.

I opened the door to Severin manor and slipped in quietly. It was also nice that everyone's doors were unlocked so often. I raised the blade in front of my face and looked around the entry hall for a moment to find it completely devoid of life. I shut the door behind me and the room became devoid of any light until I sent a magelight to the wall across from me. The world lit up, the brown and black tones of the home accented by the huge shadows cast by my magelight. I let my hand that held the dagger drift to my hip while the other rose, flames within my palm sending more light into the room to see the home around me.

It was luck that I saw the first of the attackers, and I cursed my own stupidity before my dagger caught hers. It was a Dunmer, and one of the Severins I believed. She was wearing rich clothes, with some sort of imported fur draped across her shoulders. It was clear she wasn't a fighter, but her attack had nearly caught me unawares anyways. My dagger caught hers backhand, and if there had been any doubt that she was not a fighter it was gone in that instant. I flicked my wrist and started to focus; I couldn't risk anyone sneaking up on – And there it was. I twisted to the side to avoid the other Dunmer's attack.

This woman had a hood pulled over her head and her red eyes flashed out from beneath it. I jumped around her and let her dagger continue towards the first woman. The first woman – let's just call her One for sake of convenience and the other one Two – One jumped to the side in time to avoid the brunt of the attack. The edge dragged across One's side just a little, causing a few globules of blood to trail the dagger and fall to the ground. Two pulled her blade back hurriedly, an instinctual but stupid mistake that caused the dagger's blade to drag across One's side a few inches above the first wound. I slammed my palm into Two's back and the blade slashed across One's side for a third time, this time dragging diagonally and connecting the first two wounds.

Two picked up on what was going on after that, and decided to turn away from One instead of flinching backwards. It didn't matter, of course. A void of inky nothingness appeared in my left palm for a moment and imploded upon itself, replacing the void with an ethereal dagger with which I could catch Two's attack. I hooked the blade of her ebony dagger with my summoned dagger's crossguard and pulled down hard. The dagger slipped from Two's grasp and I dismissed my summoned blade. I pulled Two between myself and One, who was moving to stab me by that point. I shoved Two into One before either could respond, and One's blade found itself buried in Two's gut.

"Mirri!" One screamed, freezing for a moment when the realization of what had happened passed through her mind. I did not give her the time necessary to recover, however, and summoned a full length blade to my left hand. A single swipe and both of the women were dead. I was now really hoping that these two had hired the Morag Tong, otherwise I had just killed a pair of innocents and that would not sit well with me. I searched both bodies and felt my heart sink when neither had any incriminating evidence on their person. One did, however, have an old looking key. I pulled it from her hip and cast a Clairvoyance spell on the item, linking the metal in the key to the metal of whatever it unlocked. A blue trail of smoke appeared on the ground and I followed it down the stairs at the center of the room, then into the master bedroom.

The safe was located on an empty book case in the back of the room, and I dropped the Clairvoyance spell upon seeing it. The area was dark, so I cast another magelight on the ceiling before moving on. In a matter of seconds I was upon the safe, burying the key in the mechanism to open it. It slid open without issue and the contents were revealed to me: a single letter folded up and partially hidden beneath a small pile of gold. I unfolded the letter and examined it, smiling to myself as I did. I hadn't killed innocents, it appeared. I pocketed the letter shut the door of the safe.

I turned on my heel when the light in the hallway darkened and raised a physical wall of Magicka with which to protect myself. A spear of ice shattered against the powerful barricade and sprinkled to the ground, allowing me to get a good look at my attacker. Standing in the path of my magelight's glow was the assassin I had faced earlier that day. Casting that spell had saved my life, it seemed. "Assassin," I greeted, pulling my dagger out while keeping my shield raised. As it stood we were at an impasse – she could not pass my shield as long as it was up, but the nature of this ward that deflected both Magickal and physical attacks was such that I could not move while it remained active. I took a deep breath and cut off the stream of energy into the wall.

I dove forward as soon as I could, letting a few ice spikes fly over my head to crash through the book shelf and wall behind me. I came up to my feet within arms reach of the assassin, and she slashed backhand at my head. I deflected the incoming blow with my own dagger and continued moving it towards the assassin's throat. She grabbed my wrist and forced it down, slashing at my throat now. I grabbed her wrist with my free hand and we came close to each other in a struggle for power. She snarled and tried to snake her wrist out of my grip, but my grip tightened to prevent her from doing so. My head shot forward, my forehead slamming into the crest of her skull. The assassin yelped in surprise but held on, so I did the same thing once more. This time she stumbled backwards and her grip on me faltered. I pulled my knife hand out of her grip and up, burying it in the side of her neck. Blood began to pour out from the wound around my blade, and then she gurgled and some shot from her mouth to collide with my cheek. "You were a good fighter," I told her as her eyes began to alternate between glazed over and clear, the Dunmer trying to stay alive and conscious despite her wounds. "Nobody except _her_ has managed to cause any trouble for me, so take the praise of an Emperor into Aetherius." Then I tore the blade from her throat and slowly lowered her to the ground, electing to wait with her for the end. It was the least I could do for a worthy enemy. As her vision began to black out, I felt a sudden urge to say something else. "I... Talos guide you."

_**Sosnaak**_

**Babette**

Babette walked silently down the stairs of the High Prison of Alinor, ignoring the screams of rage and pleas for help that echoed down through the halls of the building. The prisoners – human and otherwise – that were contained in this prison received the most inhospitable treatment that either she or the Empress could conceive, with every day dragging on in an almost endless river of torment and torture. Technically, given her roots in the old Dominion's Thalmor Justicars, Thera had decided to use the term 'reeducation' rather than torture. Babette supposed that was the end goal, but the process mostly involved torture, so the argument was really just semantics.

As she continued downwards, further into the dungeons that Thera had spent the last five years filling, the shrieks of pain slowly began to fade away. Those that 'lived' in the deepest reaches of the prison were not like those that were being reeducated on the upper floors. The denizens of the lower floors were some of the most dangerous warriors the Empress had ever personally fought, ranging from assassins sent by the old Dominion council all the way to a battlemage of the Psijic order. And its first permanent tenant, an old, formerly human Vampire hunter.

It was in front of Isran's door that Babette stopped. There were plenty of screams coming from within, though none of them were the baritone roar that had once echoed from behind the door. No, those had stopped long ago, replaced with shrieks of pain coming from those he devoured in his ravenous hunger. He had tried to resist the call of the blood for some time, longer than Babette had ever seen one successfully resist, but none could do so forever. Now, his thirst was nearly insatiable.

Babette raised her arm and slammed her fist into the steel door. The screams inside continued while a thin panel opened. "Who's there?" the inquiring pair of eyes asked.

"Down here,"Babette said pointedly. The eyes drifted down as far as they could, forcing Babette to stand on her toes to meet the guard's gaze.

"Grand Advisor! What are you doing down here?" the guard inquired. Another scream died out as the prisoner drained his prey completely. The guard's glowing eyes glanced over then back at Babette. He quickly added, "Ma'am?"

"The Empress has requested this 'agent' be sent on his first mission."

The guard raised an eyebrow. Unlike Babette, it was not his place to question the Empress' decisions, not even regarding this... creature she had created. "Very well, then," the guard muttered. He slid the panel shut and a series of locks could be heard clinking open. Once the noise stopped, Babette took her own key out and began to unlock the door from her side. The door opened a moment later, revealing a vampire dressed in heavy armor standing beside another door.

Babette walked forward and slid open another panel on this barrier, peering in to where the screams had completely stopped. There was a figure in the corner, blood coating what little of him was visible. Shreds of flesh and bone could be seen around his form. A pair of glowing, golden eyes turned towards Babette and she again wondered if this was a truly good decision that Thera was making. "Open the door," Babette demanded.

The guard moved in and placed his key in the lock. "Yes, Ma'am," he said apprehensively. He twisted the key and pulled it open, stepping back and putting the door between himself and the opening, a useless, makeshift shield.

Babette rolled her eyes and walked through the doorway. "Stand up," she told the Vampire in the center of the room. He glared at her for a few moments, resisting the commands, then sighed and stood up. "Good. Now follow me, Isran." Then she turned around and exited the room, knowing that the broken man would follow her. And follow her he did, like a dog being led to the hunt.

The guard peered around the corner of the door as Babette left with the rabid hound at her heels. It was the last thing he saw before Isran's fist tore his throat out and he fell to the ground. Babette watched the murder dispassionately, though she wondered again if this was a bad idea. Nevertheless, she continued leading the dog to its mission, simply hoping that what had happened to the guard did not happen to her.

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

The First Chancellor looked up from the letter I had taken from Severin Manor. It had been about his third time reading through it, committing every word to memory. "I did not believe myself important enough anymore to hire this number of Morag Tong assassins," he muttered. He shook his head and folded the letter up, handing it over to his Second Councilor. "Give it over to the Guard Captain and have him put together a strike team. We've let outsiders solve my problems for too long now." The Second Councilor glanced over at me then returned his attention to Morvayn. He nodded in assent, then took the letter and left.

Morvayn stared at the door for a few minutes before looking back at me. "You know I would have done it," I said.

"Obviously. But as I said, you have done more than enough for us." Morvayn groaned and leaned back in his seat, face tired. "I had hoped to avoid politics such as this when I left the Grand Council."

"Trouble follows certain people."

Morvayn nodded in disappointment. "I'm aware. It does not make it any easier." He kept his eyes shut and began to look his age – in human years. "Do your gods pile on the problems as mine do?"

"Perhaps more," I responded with a smirk.

Morvayn laughed caustically. "Cruel gods."

I laughed with him. "Yes, very cruel." My mind drifted back to Octavian. "Though they give things that are better than what they take," I said with a soft smile. I stopped when I saw Morvayn studying my face. I cleared my throat. "I'm happy I could be of service to you. And the Empire."

Morvayn looked amused by the continued charade. "Work for something you believe in and you work for yourself." Morvayn stood up and gestured towards the door. "As I said, you are allowed free rein of the Ebony Mines. If you can aid their owner in finding another source of Ebony, our trade will be exclusive with you. Ah, your Empire."

"Of course," I said, also amused by the charade. I bowed my head. "Thank you, Sera."


	65. Path of Knowledge:Fulfilling Debts

**AN:  
To Darthfenrir489: Right, I actually kind of forgot about that. That's what Retcons are for, I guess. Taking into account that male Vampires could have children with mortals in Elder Scrolls (as we know from the Grand Prince of the Arena in Oblivion), I originally just used that as justification. With your reminder, however, I suppose I would have to say that Octavian's existence would be a gift, in a manner of speaking. Florentius has already said that Arkay approves, and since Arkay is occasionally directly connected to Mara, Octavian could be seen as a gift from the gods of Death/Life and Love. So thanks for pointing that out, I will try to place it directly into the story eventually. Also, thanks for the compliment on the story's path thus far!**

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I had been sent to get Neloth a new steward. He turned me into a damn errand girl, going off to do a pointless fetch quest in that Dunmer village. I made it a point to get the most useless drunk I could... not to mention that he was the only person in the village who was desperate enough to agree to it. Neloth has a reputation for being ruthless and uncaring towards his inferiors, and that is coming from me. I hope this steward tries to kill him. I'm growing bored of his endless demands in return for small favors. I am thinking that I will not only have to kill him soon, but it will also be far more of a joy to do so than I had expected.

Thankfully, his asinine first request was followed by one infinitely more intriguing. It turned out that Neloth the Insufferable was being hunted by a dead woman. I have to admit, that was an odd one even after my line of work. He had apparently torn out the woman's heart himself on an operating table, then buried her not far from his giant mushroom home. The coffin was empty of any clues, save for a single magickal Heart Stone, and a name etched on the surface. Ildari Sarothril.

When he heard the name, I swear that Neloth's face had turned a few shades of gray lighter. Ildari, it turned out, was his former apprentice. His current apprentice, upon finding out that his master had cut open his predecessor's chest for an experiment, had paled even more. It appears that the Heart Stones are some sort of ancient magickal item, perhaps pieces of the Heart of Lorhkan created when that fool Dunmer the Nerevarine shattered the Heart into uncountable fragment. This meant that Neloth's research could become quite important – the Heart of a Divine would be useful in Mantling the Nine.

Unfortunately, I had more immediate problems to deal with at that moment. I was deep in the bowels of Highpoint Tower, an old Imperial fort from the era preceding the Oblivion Crisis. Ash Spawn had been rushing me ever since I had entered the building, and even a swarm of scamps can eventually overwhelm a Daedroth. Still, this at least gave me an opportunity to practice a skill I had been far too lax in trying to master. As another of the creatures approached me I pulled out the Skeleton Key, the green and silver body of the item flashing as I exchanged my secondary blade for the artifact.

As of yet, I had been unable to fully unlock the Key's abilities. That old fool who had tried to betray me and use the Key to take the Eyes of the Thalmor from me had used it for decades before he had managed to unlock its abilities to bend space and time around him, but he had been human. As not only a Mer but also a Daughter of Coldharbour and future Divine, it should have been a simple matter for me to use its power. And yet I still had little control over the tool's abilties. I had only managed to make myself slightly faster and stronger, but I still needed to hold it in my hand like a weapon to use this ability, more than offsetting its usefulness by getting rid of my second blade.

I plunged the blade in my right hand all the way through an incoming Ash Spawn. Hmph, they were easier to kill than humans. Its ashen form fell apart around my weapon, leaving a cracked and broken Heart Stone on the ground where it had been standing a moment before. I turned around as quickly as I could, separating another Ash Spawn's head from its shoulders with a single swipe. This did little other than stun the creature, as the Heart Stone in its chest continued to pulse with magickal power, so I brought my weapon back and jammed it straight into the stone, shattering it. "What a waste," I muttered angrily before a hissing moan came from my left. I hissed back at the creature and slashed its incoming weapon arm off, the stone club clattering against the ground. "_Fus!_" The creature's body exploded as the force blew its ash away from its Heart Stone and the Ash Spawn was consigned to oblivion.

"This is growing old," I muttered to myself. I lowered my blade to my hip, waiting for another creature to attack me. Fortunately, it seemed as if the Ash Spawn had learned better than to keep fruitlessly attacking me. I took an annoyed breath again and sheathed the sword so I could hold the Skeleton Key in both hands. "What, do you believe that idiot Frey was more worthy of your power than I?" Perhaps predictably, it did not answer. I shook my head and pocketed the Skeleton Key with a disgusted sneer. When I mantled the Heavens I would take all that the Daedra held as my own. The Key would have no choice but to belong to me then. Maybe I'd make a sword out of it! No... No that sounds absurd.

I turned towards the door away from which the Ash Spawn had been unsuccessfully trying to drive me. It looked as if Ildari was done hiding behind her weak slaves. Fine by me. It was just going to be a simple diversion if these were the best obstacles that she could place in my path. Well, as long as she did not die too fast I could hopefully gleam some sort of advantage over Neloth from her twisted, undead mind. And I wonder what blood pumped through the fragment of the Heart of a god would taste like? I smiled at the thought of finding out.

"So, Neloth the Coward sends someone else to kill his former student? He knows I have surpassed him, then!" I looked up at the Dunmer standing on a balcony above me. Her face was a manic grin, hair disheveled and covered in ash. I sighed, disappointed, at the sight of her torn and singed robes and the chipped ebony dagger held far too tight in her hand. I am loathe to admit it, but part of me had been holding out hope for a small challenge. I had spent far too long fighting weak enemies, so much so that now Lucius was a true threat to me. Perhaps by stealing whatever power Miraak had, I could find a secret to more easily killing my mirror. And, if that failed, I am sure that the new Ayleid's face would distract Lucius long enough to deal true damage. Perhaps if he had no Voice he would be manageable.

"I don't have time for this," I sighed The world around me began to slowly turn a bloody red as I summoned up magic in the deepest pit of my soul. My voice grew lower and more gravelly with every syllable uttered. "Now that I see you, I know you have no information I can use against Neloth. Your life has no worth to me now." Then my wings exploded from my back and I launched myself through the air at Sarothril. My jaw opened wide, huge teeth and gray claws wrapping around her throat and strangling the scream that was trying to escape her lungs. Her blood flowed into my maw and the warbling screech died away completely into a whimper until, finally, I had drained her body dry.

I let it fall from my claws and collapse into lifeless ash against the ground. I licked my large teeth. "Cinnamon. Hm."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

"DAAAMN IT!" I screamed as the ground gave way beneath me. I turned on instinct and tried to run towards the more solid stone and the safety it promised, though it seemed as if the gods still enjoyed laughing at me and my efforts. The stone beneath me crumbled completely and I began to tumble towards the floor of the cave far below, only slowing as I slammed into a series of cliffs just close enough to one another that when I hit each it was only incredibly painful rather than actually debilitating. I hit the ground just as hard and groaned. "Why... Why does this always happen to me?" I growled. I shut my eyes. I felt like taking a nap.

"Idiot."

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling much better now that I had slept for an hour or two. The bruises were gone, and a dull ache in my left shoulder told me that my arm had been both dislocated and then relocated. "Who's an idiot?" I growled, expecting Dorthe. "I told you to stay with Serana and Octavian!"

"Oh, looks as if you haven't gotten any better at noticing things these past five years." I looked up at the source of the voice and my eyes met a pair of shining, golden orbs. Serana shook her head and sighed in disappointment. "Honestly, you go on one adventure without me and you immediately fall down a cliff. I hope you do better when Dorthe is watching out for you."

"... Why are you here?"

Serana raised an eyebrow and I knew I'd said the wrong thing. "Oh, so you don't want to see me? Too bad. I'm here." She flicked my forehead with her middle finger and I hissed at the sudden, sharp pain. "Tell me, what'd you learn about the ground by sleeping with it?"

"It doesn't hit as hard as you do," I grunted.

"Flatterer." Serana smiled at me and held her hand out to help me to my feet. I sighed and accepted the aid and was soon on my feet.

"You know what I meant," I pointed out after a moment of silence. "You know Thera is here. She's going to try to capture you. Why didn't you stay with Dorthe and Octavian?"

"Because, as we both know, I can handle myself. Unlike you. You can't get ten feet without someone having to save your life." Serana placed one hand on her hip. I sighed and decided to just take in the sights for a moment.

Serana was dressed in an armor somewhat reminiscent of the armor she had been wearing when we had met. It was black with blood red overtones, but the edifices of Molag Bal had been removed from the clasps of the cloak. In the place of that god were two Imperial Dragons, something that brought a small smile to my face. Her entire chest was covered by the armor, beneath which a leathery red shirt hung from her shoulders. Her cloak had been replaced with mine, the dim green glow visible in the darkness. Her hair was dangling in her face, ever so slightly. "Like what you see?"

I smiled as I was snapped out of my stupor. "It's certainly more protective than what you used to wear," I said, gesturing at her chest for emphasis. "Tired of sunburn?"

"Among other things," she said, her fangs flashing as she smiled at me. She grabbed me suddenly by the collar of my coat and dragged my face in front of hers.

My eyes softened and I shook my head. "I've never been so glad you never listen to me."

"I listen," she said indignantly. She let go of my collar and patted the top of my head condescendingly. "When you have a good idea."

"So not often?" I asked, taking the degradation in stride. I grabbed her other arm. "I think I have a good idea right now."

She raised an eyebrow and stopped tapping my head. "Oh really?"

"Kiss me."

Serana smirked. "What do you know? You're right," she said before leaning in. I wrapped my arms around her waist as hers wrapped around my neck. She let the kiss die after a moment. "Unfortunately, I think we should get out of here. This is an Ebony mine, and I don't think this is the best place for what's on your mind."

"Our minds," I corrected her.

"Fair." She let go of me and I sighed in defeat, letting go of her hesitatingly. She turned and pointed at a wall. "Tell me, Archmage, do you know how to break through that?"

"Hm..." I muttered. I walked towards the stone, where a large, crisscrossing series of red lights was glowing from within the wall. I reached out and felt the trace magicka within pressing against my mind. It felt... primal, raw, and evil. And also very familiar. "It's a Dragon Priest's Temple." I took a step back before launching a blade of energy from my hand at the wall. The red glow dimmed for a moment as the spells met, then glowed even brighter, my spell having done nothing to weaken it.

"You lost your touch?"

"You tell me," I shot back at Serana. I frowned and studied the energy further. Something about it felt... off. Divided. I placed my hand on the wall, trying to attune my magicka with the energy in the wall, then let loose a spell. It was a variation of the Clairvoyance spell, which connected the magicka within a person to the magicka within a region in order to map the quickest route. This, instead, was connecting the magicka in the wall to whatever else contained that magick. I could see two paths spread out in my mind's eye, one leading through the wall and towards the Dragon Priest who hid within. Another extended behind me, leading towards another of the cavern's walls. I let the spell die and turned around. "Serana, do you see anything over there."

She followed my gaze and turned, her night vision letting her catch sight of it quickly. "A sword." She ran over and picked it up, dragging it into my field of vision. It was a large blade, a claymore made of steel and some sort of red, magickal mineral. As it approached the glowing wall, the red mineral began to glow along the blade's edge.

"A key," I corrected. She gave me a weird look. "Hey, it's not the first key that's a sword I've had to deal with on my travels." I walked towards her and held my hand out. "May I?"

Serana shrugged and held the blade's handle out to me. I took it and hefted the blade over my shoulder. Immediately, I felt the flow of magicka in my body change, flowing into my palms and up the length of the blade. On a whim, I slashed the blade at the glowing wall, causing a blade of red energy to fly out of the sword. The red light on the wall flashed when the blade connected before disappearing. I raised the blade in front of me again and slashed at another of the glowing beams, then another, and another. Finally, the brown stone crumbled. I tossed the sword to the ground and drew Dragonslayer.

"What should we be expecting?" Serana asked, drawing an ebony dagger from her hip and following me towards the opening.

"Dragon Priest. Masked, most likely," I explained.

"Ah. Plan?"

"I'll think of something," I assured her. I walked through the opening and Serana was barely able to stop me in time to avoid a spinning blade that passed just in front of me. "A-ah." I took a step back.

"You see what I mean? You'd be dead without me," Serana whispered as I stepped back. I didn't point out to her how worried she sounded.

"Okay, you're right," I admitted with a shrug.

"Good. Took you long enough to figure that out," she growled, punching my shoulder. She gestured next at the hallway of spinning, deadly blades. "Any plans?"

"One," I said. I took a step forward, letting the blade move as close to me as possible.

"Is it a bad idea?"

"You tell me." I took a deep breath as the blade passed me again. "_Wuld Nah Kest!_" I was suddenly at the other side of the hallway, a lever at my feet. I pulled it, and I heard the swinging blades click into place as the trap was deactivated. I turned around to see Serana glaring at me. "That good?"

"You're going to be the death of me one day," she growled. She walked past me and I grinned at the back of her head. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at me. "Well?" I nodded and followed her towards the Dragon Priest. It would be nice to kill something with her again.

As usual, as soon as we entered the room the Dragon Priest rose from his coffin as if pulled by the strings of a marionette before unleashing his power and hissing at us. His mask was gray and a different design than the others I had taken up to this point, with small tentacles forming the mouth. It looked like a more simple version of the one Miraak wore, with the tentacles much shorteer and more tame in their curling. "Okay, here's the plan," I said out of the corner of my mouth. "... I bet I can kill him first."

"Good luck with that," Serana smirked, and she ran towards the Dragon Priest before I could. I let my weapon remain at my side, determined to watch her work for at least a few minutes. Her dagger slashed past a beam of Lightning energy, the spell flashing and hissing as it collided with the ground behind the Vampiress. She sidestepped the next spell, which rushed past her and towards me. I raised my hand and absorbed the spell with a ward, the blue energy distorting my view of Serana slightly. She rolled beneath a swipe from the Draugr's claw, then jumped upward and wrapped her hand around the Dragon Priest's throat. It shrieked and began to tumble backwards, the concentration required to keep it aloft gone. Serana buried her dagger in its throat and hit the ground with only ash and a mask beneath her.

"Hmph. You win," I said as she stood up and began to walk towards me, a dry glare on her face.

"Just like you to make me do all the work."

"I like having my eye on you again," I said, sheathing my blade. She arrived in front of me and crossed her arms. "I don't want this to go to your head, but it's kind of hard to take them off of you."

Serana grinned at me and placed a kiss on my jawline. "Flattery will get you somewhere."

I opened my mouth to say more, but froze when I saw something floating behind Serana. I swallowed the fear in my throat as the black book opened and a writhing mass of tentacles appeared from its pages. "Hello... Dragonborn," a ponderous, condescending voice said.

"Hermaeus Mora," I growled at the single demonic eye at the center of the tentacles. Ever the voyeur, that one.


	66. Path of Knowledge:Deal with a Devil

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

I continued my stare down with the Daedric Prince of Knowledge, his endless swarm of eyes locking with mine. My hand tightened around Serana's as she stood just as unafraid at my side. It seemed odd that even now, after almost a half dozen years apart, the two of us could stand eye to eye with what was essentially a demon god. Never mind that. It was more odd that I was surprised. "How long have you been watching?" I asked Mora, a scowl deepening on my face.

I could basically hear the smirk in his words when he responded, voice still annoyingly slow and with the tone of a whale. "Please, Dragonborn. You of all mortals should know, I... am always watching."

"Oh, good. That's what I'll be thinking about next time I fall asleep," Serana muttered dryly. "Tentacles and eyeballs everywhere."

"How delightfully pithy, Vampire," the Ancient God groaned mockingly, his words like flowing jelly. "But your attempts to defeat your nature do not interest me. I have come to make a deal with the Dragonborn."

I shook my head. "I'm not interested. You see, Hermaeus, you have nothing I could want."

"Please. You are not stupid enough to believe that, Archmage..." The god's physical form disappeared, then appeared once more behind us. The tentacles reached out, brushing against our armor and causing both Serana and me to jump forward and away from Mora. We spun around to glare at the Daedric Prince. "Heh... Heh... Heh. Lucius, we both know I have knowledge you _need_."

I shut my eyes. "And what knowledge would that be?" I asked, playing dumb. It was clear that Miraak had given himself over to Hermaeus Mora millennia ago to act as the Daedric Prince's agent in exchange for forbidden knowledge. Miraak had wanted to seize power from the Dragons, and in doing so had spat upon the Divines who had given him his power and Destiny. He was much like Thera in that respect, trading favors with demon gods in exchange for power.

"The Words, Dragonborn."

I didn't respond. Serana, actually, was the one to respond, knowing as she did how all too often I had been forced to be the one to speak with the enemy of my enemies. "The Words of Control. I'm willing to bet you taught them to Miraak in the first place!"

"Who and how Miraak learned those Words is neither here... nor there," Mora responded simply. He laughed slowly. "No, what matters is that I can teach them to the Dragonborn."

"And why come to me? I thought that _she_ was more in line with what you would want," I growled. I gestured at nothing with my free hand as I referred to my mirror image.

"What knowledge could I possibly gain by only telling one of you?" Hermaeus Mora inquired, somehow sincere when he did. Th eyes within the formless void shut in disappointment with me, then opened full of mirth. "No, Little Mortal, I seek a much greater prize."

"But you are giving them to her." I looked over at Serana as she said, "You're going to give the Thalmor the Words, if you haven't already."

"Indeed."

"You're not even going to lie," Serana noted angrily.

The void gave an audible 'shrug.' "You know me well enough, do you not, to know I would do so? Why bother lying, then?"

"What do you want?"

Serana looked over at me. "Luc..." she cautioned quietly.

I glared at Mora. "What. Do you want?" I repeated, remaining resolute more against my own fear than in the face of Serana's warnings. This was... a bad idea. But a bad idea was usually better than no idea, in my experience. I let go of Serana's hand and pointed at the writhing mass. "Answer the damn question, Daedra."

"The price may be too high," Serana whispered.

"It probably will be." I shut my eyes and let my hands drop to my sides. I waited silently for the Prince's response.

"Such resolve for a mortal..." Mora groaned. There was a momentary pause, then: "You know the Shaman of the Skaal."

"Why?"

"Because..." Mora's voice dropped an octave and the light within the tomb seemed to disappear for a moment. The pace of his speech picked up and became like thunder. "He hides his secrets from me!"

Serana laughed dryly, causing the eyes within the void to grow enraged and turn on her. "Wait... The god of forbidden knowledge doesn't know something?" she asked, relishing in the opportunity to mock the Daedra. "What would your supplicants think?"

"Do not mock me, Vampire. I have seen an abyss that would cause your small mind to writhe in agony, to implode under the weight of nothingness."

"But you haven't seen the secrets of the Skaal." The eyes turned on me and I could see the Prince considering trying to kill me. I smirked at the Daedric Prince.

After a few moments, the void began to laugh ponderously. The light returned to the room and the voice returned to normal. "Bravery only seen in the hands of a mortal," he said quietly. "I wonder if your bravery is capable of defeating her cruelty?"

I frowned at that; it wasn't a question I wanted to ponder. "You know that it is not my decision as to whether you receive the secrets of the Skaal."

"Semantics..." the Daedra noted, uninterested in the validity of my argument. "You know that almost any mortal would do as you request, especially with Miraak's influence cleansed from their stones. You are their... heh... their hero."

"And you their ultimate evil." I threw my hand across my chest. "I tire of trading one apocalypse for another."

Mora shrank for a moment, thinking this through. Finally: "My purpose is not destruction, Mortal. I cannot amass knowledge if your Plane does not exist, and what would the god of knowledge be without his Sphere of Influence?"

The void disappeared, leaving behind only words running through our minds. "You will bring me their knowledge or the other one will. You will both receive the knowledge you seek, but my favor will only belong to one of you."

Then Hermaeus Mora was gone. "Well, that was a mood killer." Serana noted dryly. She looked over at me and placed her hand on my cheek, pulling my gaze over to meet hers. She was frowning sympathetically as she asked, "So, what are we going to do?"

I stared into her glowing eyes. I had to get the Words, not just to defeat Miraak, but to defeat Thera. I had to stop them and the only way to get the Words I needed to do it was to give that over... Or did I need to? I smiled at her. "There has to be another way to learn the Words," I said. I shook my head. "Miraak doesn't create any knowledge, he never has. He always records it from someone else."

Serana grinned. "Otherwise he wouldn't need you to give him the Skaal's secrets. Clever boy."

I shook my head in amusement. "And that means the knowledge exists, probably on this island. And I can find it."

Serana smiled for a moment, then sighed and shook her head. "Just to play Molag's advocate... how?"

I grimaced. "Um... I'll figure that out, too."

Serana thought about pressing the issue, but instead just sighed wearily. She softly kissed my cheek and then tapped her open palm against the place where her lips had been a moment earlier. "We can worry about that later, Luc," she said. Her hand drifted down to mine and wrapped around my fingers. "For now, we should head back."

"Wait," I said, yanking at her hand and pulling her into a hug. I placed my lips on the top of her head and took a deep breath, losing myself in the countless memories that flooded to my mind. Our first night together in Honeyside manor, another keeping watch while she slept, her face before she woke up and the sunlight was glancing off of her skin, and finally our last the night before the battle with Lamae. The memories slowly drifted away, leaving me in the now with the woman I loved. "I don't remember or care if I said this before, Serana, but I missed you. Like the waves miss the sea, or a Nord his homeland. It actually burned on the inside."

I could feel a wet spot growing on my chest, but I didn't bring it up. "You're too emotional," Serana said, the emotion in her voice muffled by my body.

"I know." I smiled into her hair and let the memories of our time together repeat in my head. "I need my big, strong Vampire to keep me from doing anything too stupid." I shut my eyes and smiled. "Gods, I love you."

_**Fahiil**_

**Thera**

I considered Hermaeus Mora's words as he disappeared. Only one of us would be given his favor though both of us would be given the Words. Lucius... I smiled. Lucius would refuse. Not only was he made of softer stock as a human, but his pet Vampire and child had lived among the Skaal for years. Even if he had ever considered betraying the Skaal, he would never do it lest he risk losing them again. He was nothing if not a sentimental fool.

I was not far from the Skaal village, and was likely closer than my _Jokaar _was at that same moment. I had decided to cleanse the Stones closest to the Skaal Village and had finished that job recently. If Mora's message had been any indication, this was likely the reason he had decided to communicate with us at all. We had the potential to defeat Miraak, otherwise he would never have come to see us. I began to walk towards the village, keeping one hand on my blade.

Unfortunately for me, there was a problem that I would have a small amount trouble getting around. Lucius had demanded that I be refused entry into the home of the Skaal without him present. It was a shame, but I had to admit that we had been doing this dance for long enough that we knew each other very well. The Skaal had erected a wall that no Dragonborn could pass without their consent, and he was certainly their favorite out of the two of us. I wasn't sure if I could convince them to let me into their village without him. Perhaps... Perhaps I could convince them to open their walls to me if I convinced them there was no time to wait for Lucius to find some workaround. In fact, I would actually be telling them the truth. A novel concept, telling the truth to animals.

I decided I would worry about that problem when I came to it. For now, I had something else about which to worry. I had managed to send for Isran almost a week earlier. This meant that he would likely be arriving on the island soon, if he had not already. He had been programmed with a single goal in mind through years of torture – to hunt down and kill Lucius. He retained the intelligence and cunning he had displayed years earlier, but now in service to a being of worth. If he arrived in time, he would lay a trap for Lucius that could very well kill my enemy. However, if he did not... It was entirely possible I would be gambling with my life.

I stopped walking and scoffed at that mere thought. Lucius' inevitable appearance would matter little. No, it would not spell my death, even if my assassin failed to arrive. I would kill Miraak and steal from him his power, which would be more than enough to eradicate my opposite and, thus, his entire empire. He did bring the Bow of Auri-El, as well... A way to take the power of a god, delivered to me. It seemed that some sort of god was on my side, or at the very least against him. I continued to walk towards the village.

Some time later, I arrived to find a single member of the Skaal standing guard just within the wall. "Halt, Outsider!" the guard shouted, holding his hand up to me as I approached the wall. He studied my face for a moment. "Ah, you're the other Dragonborn. Apologies."

_Other_ Dragonborn? Well, that was certainly a new and annoying term to hear. "... Yes," I muttered after the thought of tearing the guard's throat out left me. Not that I could, of course. He was behind the wall. "Let me in."

The guard shook his head. "I... I can't," he said, growing timid as my glare turned to fire. He gulped down his fear and raised his hands in an attempt to displace blame. "The Shaman is the only one who is capable of opening the barrier for anyone!"

"Of course he is," I growled. I shook my head. "Look, we don't have much time. The stones have been cleansed and I have a way to attack Miraak _now_. If we wait, it may be too late to do anything."

The guard glanced up the hill to his home, then back at me. "Go tell him," I growled. He took a half step back. "_Now_." He turned on his heel and sprinted to find his shaman.

I watched him go and muttered, "_Humans_."

I was left waiting for some time, likely a result of Lucius' – heh – 'bodyguard' trying to convince them that I wasn't to be trusted. The Skaal would likely elieve her, though they would also likely decide it was necessary to at least hear me out. Stopping Miraak was something we were united in doing, and even his bodyguard could likely attest that Lucius would risk the world for his conscience. I would not risk my world for anything so small.

Eventually, I learned that I was correct. The Skaal shaman was walking down the hill, his jaw clenched beneath his beard. On one side of him was the guard who I had been speaking with a few moments earlier, and on the other was Lucius' bodyguard. Her eyes were like embers at the start of a fire, hinting at an even greater hatred within as her eyes stayed locked upon me. It was nice to know I could still inspire such feelings in lesser creatures. The three stopped just within the barrier, inches beyond my reach. There was silence for a short while, then, "Well? Oslaf said you had something to tell us," the shaman stated gruffly.

"Indeed I do," I said. I reached into my pack and pulled out the Black Book.

The shaman cursed in his native tongue, flinching back and casting a disgusted look at the Artifact in my grasp. "You would bring this to us? A book of the Demon Herma Mora?" the shaman spat, a new fire in his eyes.

"Out of necessity." I tucked the book between my body and my arm and sighed. "Mora offered the Words we need to defeat Miraak in battle. To _both_ of us."

The shaman glared at the book. "He seeks our secrets and asks those whose aid we require to steal them for him. A cowardly squid as ever," he growled. He clenched his fists at his sides. "Prophecy says one of our Shamans will fall and hand our secrets over to the Demon of Knowledge... I do not want that."

"Even at cost of Nirn itself? The entirety swept away by Miraak, all because you would not trade away your secrets of... what, how to skin a Horker the right way?" I snapped. I growled and tried to think of what would draw him in the best. "Children, women, your own daughter as his slaves?" He paled slightly at that.

"That's uncalled for, Bitch."

I looked over at the source of the voice; the bodyguard. "Don't you have a child to be babysitting?" I hissed. She just glowered in response, so I returned my attention to the shaman. "Think, for just a moment. If Miraak escapes now, without anyone knowing the words to defeat him... there will be nothing left. He will sweep your tiny village aside as if he were a tornado. Then the world. The world your precious All-Maker left _you_ to steward."

The shaman continued to glare at me. "But, by all means, if you wish to risk the world for your stubbornness, be my guest. It will not be my fault if the people you claim to defend are swallowed by Apocrypha and -."

"Fine!" The shaman interjected. He glared at me for a moment, then let his gaze fall to the ground, defeated. "Fine." He walked out of the barrier and took the book from my hands. "You win."

"I'm well aware," I said dryly, keeping my eyes locked on the fury and horror evident in the bodyguard's eyes.

"No!" she snapped. The shaman turned around to her. She shook her head. "You can't do this! She's using you!" She growled and pointed at the shaman. "Lucius will get the knowledge another way. If she wants it to be this way, it's the wrong way."

The shaman looked at the ground, then back up at her. "Even if that were true, could you guarantee that your master obtains the knowledge before Miraak casts this world into shadow?" he asked.

"Father!" A woman sprinted down the hill. "No, Father, don't!"

"It needs to be one of us, my child. And it won't be you." He turned to me, ignoring his daughter's pleas that he not do what he was about to do. Looking me in the eye, he set his jaw. Finally: "Give me the book."

_**Jul**_

**Lucius**

Serana and I stood a few miles outside of Ravenrock, preparing to go our separate ways. She was going to ride for the Skaal's village on Arvak, while I was going to try finding the other Dragon Priest tombs. The one we had found in the mine had only contained a Word that would further draw out the Dragon's Blood granted me by the Divines, as well as a black book. I had taken both, only knowing that the Book could never fall into the hands of any mortal. "Do we really have to separate?" Serana asked while she loaded up Arvak's saddlebags. The ghost horse whinnied happily and turned to nuzzle her, still very happy at seeing her again. She laughed and began to rub the bony monster's face affectionately.

"Unfortunately," I said. I looked up from the map I held in my hands, then rolled it up and placed it back in the slot for my bag. I walked towards her and placed my hand on the back of the horse's neck. Serana and I were only a few inches apart. "Thera will try to get the Skaal to give up their secrets, and they trust you. If you tell them to wait, they will wait."

"That is true," Serana admitted, annoyed. She looked up at me. "I hate it when you're right, you know."

"Not every time," I said, thinking back to when I had woken up in the mine.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Not every time." She stood up on the tips of her toes before I could respond and locked her mouth with mine. Her hands reached up into my hair and mine slowly drifted down her back. She stopped when it became clear I needed air. "You mortals are such light weights when it comes to holding your breath."

"I'd try for longer, but then both of us would be dead," I pointed out. I shrugged. "I don't think I'd make it work nearly as well as you."

"I could always..." She put her mouth to my neck and pretended to bite.

"Ha," I said when she pulled her head back. I stared into her eyes and frowned sadly. "I haven't... I haven't figured it out yet."

"You will. If anyone can turn Vampires back into mortals, it's you." She patted my cheek and took a deep breath. Her kind tone turned mocking, "Just don't let the compliments go to your pretty little head."

"No, because if we both had big egos – " I felt all the breath leave my lungs, forcing me to stagger backwards. My vision blackened, tunneling until only a pinprick of light remained visible. Words came to my mind, the Words that could build an empire of slaves upon Nirn for any Dragonborn who knew them.

I woke up on the ground a moment later. "Is this gonna become a thing?" Serana asked.

I pushed myself up. "We need to hurry." I pulled the saddlebags off of Arvak's back, petting his head when he whinnied in confusion. "I'm sorry boy, but you aren't fast enough to get us where we need to be right now."

"Luc, what's going on?" Serana asked when I waved my hand and Arvak disappeared.

"The Words. She got the Skaal to hand over their knowledge to Mora," I said. I began checking my weapons and my pack.

"Thera?"

"Yes." I took my pack off and tied the saddlebags to it, hoping the knot was tight enough, then shrugged it back on. I looked over at Serana. I wanted to give her everything. Her and my son deserved nothing less. "Serana... After this is all over, when we have five minutes of peace... Marry me."

"M-marry? You know that temples and I -"

"I know. Just... Just think it over. At the end of the day, you're already the only woman I'll ever love. I just want everyone else to see that, to see I am yours and yours alone. You'd be surprised how many women hit on an '_eligible_' Emperor." I smiled as her cheeks reddened with rage.

"You're baiting me," she growled.

"Is it working?"

She narrowed her eyes on me, eliciting only laughter from me in response. After a few moments, I sighed. Time to get back to work. I asked myself, "I wonder if he'll mind another passenger while we fly"

"Fly?" Serana asked in confusion.


End file.
